Duug Duug Duug Duug...
The roar of the mean machine is unmistakable, a distinctive chick magnet, guaranteed to garner that second glance.
And if you happen to be as lucky as me, to ride pillion behind the guy who makes your heart skip a beat, it would be one ride you’d not forget in a hurry.
So when TOOMA zipped to my doorstep on the shiny red mo’bike on his birthday, my heart went aflutter. After all, its not everyday that I get to act out one of my oft-repeated dreams...
I was akin to a delighted child, who had just been presented with a much-prayed-for present, and now that it was right in front, was unsure whether to:
a) Clap hands
b) Jump up and down
c) Give a whoooopeeee of pure, unadulterated glee
d) All the above
So I settled for a girlie hand over my mouth (lest my screams of ecstasy brought all the neighbors to see what all the fuss was all about), and hugged TOOMA more than my usual self.
After a complete five minutes - what with my staring at the beauty, and TOOMA's ciggie-marathon, it was time for the much-awaited ride.
I needed no second bidding.
Within a trice, I was sitting behind him. As soon as the engine started full throttle, I knew that the red beauty meant business.
Roaring like a roused tiger, it sprang into action, causing those on the road to make way for the royalty.
The wind in my hair, the warm sun shining on my face, a song in my heart, holding the guy I love, smelling his divine cologne - what more could a woman ask for.
Evening was even better. The cool evening wind did wonders for my cheeks – giving them a flushed, dewy-fresh, freshly-kissed, rouged look…
Would you blame me that I asked for a retry?
Vrooooooom! Till next month, my motto is:
I SHALT BE PATIENT...
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