Channagiri Raghunath Rao was a very close family friend of my father. He was a man of gigantic proportions. He was very tall and well built. He spoke very loudly. His normal conversation sounded like a series military orders delivered by an experienced Sergeant Major to his troops. His hand shake was more deadly than his vocal chord.
He resided in Yelahanka,a township located in the northern part of Bengaluru. He was the manager of “Bangalore Brick and Tile Factory”. He used to visit our house very frequently travelling 30 kms one way on his priced possession – ‘Royal Enfield’ motorbike. Riding a motorbike in the mid sixties over long distances must have been very challenging and tiring. He used to park his bike in front of our house and thereafter proceed with whatever errands he had to do in the city. My father and he would go for a leisurely stroll around Shankarpuram. Their walking – shopping routine was regular and predictable. Thereafter he would spend some time with all of us chit chatting. He had lots of stories and anecdotes to narrate and generally keep us entertained. I used to call him ‘Raghu Anna’ (Raghu Brother). As a fifteen year old boy I found him to be a very interesting person.
More imposing than Raghu Anna was his bike the – Royal Enfield. I used to stand and watch this piece of engineering beauty, all powerful, shining and majestic. I often dreamt of riding this powerful machine. But, had to remain contended by riding on his bike as a pillion rider. Some times Raghu Anna used to take me on his bike to Yelahanka to spend a weekend in their house. His son Phanendra was my class mate. I looked forward to these long rides, the air blowing on your face, constant vibration of the engine and above all the resounding and rhythmic sound of the bike. Overall it was an extremely invigorating experience. Even after sixty years, I still feel the strong connection with this sound. Our car driver Suresh is a proud owner of a Royal Enfield.
As a hot blooded teenager anything is possible. When you are young imagination runs wild and desires bordering on foolishness abound. This is when you throw caution to the wind and embrace danger.
Our landlords grandson Jai Kumar was two years senior to me and a very close friend. We lived in the same compound and had grown up together as partners in many mischievous adventures. One day I gathered all my adolescent courage and and poured forth my innermost desire. I said Hey Kumar “ lets take the motor bike and go for a ride”. He remained silent for some time and later managed to give a simple grin, which told it all. It was unbridled happiness, my dearest fried had agreed to my scheme.
As I had mentioned earlier Raghu Anna’s routine was predictable and measurable in terms of time. His outing with my father was around an hour. So we planned the entire operation for a total duration of thirty minutes. Commence the manoeuvre ten minutes after their departure and return well in time. The plan gave us a cushion of twenty minutes. The project was entirely doable.
There was however one small impediment. Both of us had never ridden a bike before, leave alone a heavy monster like the Enfield. We discussed this aspect thread bare and concluded that it was similar to riding a bicycle, but heavier. We decided to go ahead with the dangerous and risky undertaking.
On the fateful evening we commenced our operation as planned. Took the bike of the stand and Kumar kick started the bike with at most ease. In a short while we had mastered the art of balancing and riding. We took turns in riding the bike. The ecstatic feeling it generated was beyond comparison. We had achieved something big for our age. In all our excitement, we rode the bike beyond our locality and for longer than anticipated.
We returned home well within the stipulated time. The entire operation had unfolded as per the plan. We stopped the vehicle in front of the house and embarked on the last phase of the mission. Put the heavy bike on its stand.
All our attempts to put the bike on its center stand failed miserably. It was two heavy for the two of us to lift the bike. Time passed faster than normal and sweat beads had started to form. Failure loomed large and panic was writ all over our face. Just when we were giving up all hopes, Nagarj, our dear friend from the corner house came to our rescue. He seized the situation and took complete charge of the operation. He summoned a passer by to render help. Now with our troop strength having increased to four, we were able to put the bike on stand in a jiffy. Najaraj the ‘Serpant King’ was truly a messenger from God.
We had accomplished a daring and dangerous mission without any blemish. I went back home and placed the key back in its original place and returned to the scene of crime.
My father and Raghu Anna returned as usual and everything seemed to be normal. There was some animated discussion between the two and farewell gestures were beginning to be traded. All of a sudden the imposing owner of the bike became aggressive and extremely vocal. Anger was writ all over and his face had turned beetroot red. In a thundering voice he said “ Venkanna look at the bike. I Had parked the bike facing the cricket field and now its facing in the opposite direction’. ‘ Some rascal has taken the bike for a ride, let me catch him and I will wring his neck’ and he went on and on. My father in the mean time tried to console the aggrieved party ‘ Raghu, cool down and think back, may be you are mistaken and you are imagining things. It took a lot of persuasion and cajoling by my father to bring back the ‘Royal Enfielder’ to near normal state.
Many years later, may be fifteen years, gathering lot of courage, I owned up to the bike episode. His only reaction was ‘Ah ah, I always knew I was right and Venkanna was wrong
Captain's Corner 