stack/hopr

If God is the master of music, the sound of a roaring car engine would be near top of his playlist. It is hard to find a man whose body does not react to the sound of a mighty car engine. It is the sound of power.

You can tell a race car from a street car. You can differentiate a flat-6 from an inline-4.
You can guess if it is the truck, a bike or a four-wheeler by just the sound. You can tell a poorly maintained engine from a well oiled horse. You can guess whether the engine is choking on dirt in fuel or by the weight of the payload. If you tune up well to your engine, you won’t even need a speedometer.

If eyes are the windows to a person’s soul, then the sound of the engine would be the door to the car’s soul.

[From: Cloud 100]

This time I pushed it even harder.

The expressway was clear ahead of me. The vehicle in front of me at least half a kilometer away. The terrain near flat. I knew this was the moment. My car was doing a little above 115kmph. I cleared my mind and depressed the accelerator to max depth.

It’s a city car. Santro Xing. It’s not made for the highways and the high speeds. It’s a simple car made to navigate city traffic efficiently and to make parking a breeze. It’s body is to accommodate people of all weights and heights. And as such it’s not very aerodynamic.

120 – 130 – 135. The needle hovered around 140 for a while and finally crossed it. I kept the accelerator fully pressed; the car won’t go any faster. That was my vehicle’s top speed. Being a city car and a bit old, it began to shake up a bit. The steering wheel was vibrating and it took some strength to keep it under control. I was on the fast lane, leaving vehicle after vehicle behind. I was taken over by sheer exhilaration. Of course, I knew I had entered the danger zone and I was completely focused on the road ahead of me and the car traveling ahead of me. The distance between us was decreasing rapidly. But, I was driven by speed; I did not want to drop below 140. I wanted this drift to last eternity.

The brake lights of the car in front of me glowed up. With a heavy heart I applied the brakes. There’s nothing more painful than watching the needle backtrack the dial of the speedometer.

This happened last evening.

Me and my friend, I call him LSP, were riding on a bike. He was driving. We were headed for inner parts of the city to do some emergency shopping. LSP is a smooth rider. He’s always calm and cool. I’m generally not very comfortable traveling on 2 wheelers, but since it was LSP I had agreed. Just before we started LSP and I had a brief discussion about how the pillion rider on his bike should stabilize himself. I told him that I generally I hold on to something, like bike’s tail. LSP was in disagreement. He said, since it was his bike and he was the driver, I should not hold onto anything, just rest my hands on my knees and relax. So, I relaxed.

Out from our peaceful residential area, we were entering the heavy traffic roads of the city. Fortunately the weather was nice. So, both of us were generally in a good mood. LSP was riding to his heart as usual. Overtaking vehicle after vehicle, swirling around cars and other bikes. He was in control of the vehicle. I kept my hands on my knees, without having any special urge to hold onto something.

We were approaching a traffic light. It is a confusing merge of 5 roads. Confusing, because 5 roads come together at different angles here. Three roads merge at an angle of 30-40 degrees to each other. One roads passes straight through, and another road comes in at right angle from the opposite side. The situation is complicated by a three branch flyover passing from above this junction. I had negotiated this place before, from all angles and under different traffic conditions. LSP has been driving around this place for years.

I wasn’t paying special attention to signal color or the traffic in general. It was not my job at the time. A billboard to the side of the road had caught my eye. So, I was thinking about it. I didn’t know LSP was doing some deep thinking himself. A white Ford Fiesta was right ahead of us, about 20 feet from us. We were traveling at around 40kmph. LSP was a sharp negotiator of vehicles. We were getting close to the car, both of us never noticed that the car had suddenly become stationary, its brake lights turned on. We were still traveling at 40kmph. The distance between the car and us was vanishing. We were merely 3 feet away from car, and LSP realized we were not going to make the curve around the car. He braked hard. It was too late.

We rammed into the car’s rear. A loud clicking noise of bikes front mud-guard crushing into pieces. I was already in the air, not really sure what was happening. But sure of one thing, I had zero control over my body, my mind and my life at that instant. The time seemed to have slowed to a 1000 times than normal. Mid-air, I noticed, LSP holding onto the handle of the bike, being pushed ahead onto the petrol tank. He was frantically and almost without conscious thought trying to control his bike. Then, I saw the white boot of the car. I was going to land on it. My only hope was not to land head first. Both of us were without helmets. My hand moved forward and pushed my body away from the car. My left leg scratched against the ground. I rotated around LSP, looking directly into his eyes. I saw the same feeling of helplessness and shock in his eyes. In that moment, I also tried to assess how much damage LSP was going to have and if I could help him in some way. It looked like he was about to stabilize. I kept rotating. My right hand was now stretched far along to balance my body. And I regained balance, I stood up. I was standing just behind the car and beside the point where the bike had hit the car. The bike was still engaged with the rear of the car. LSP was in upright position himself, holding onto the bike.

The rest of the world drowned out. I could only think of me, LSP, the car and the bike. The traffic, the people around us were lost. Me and LSP just stood there looking at each other, not believing what had happened. Both trying hard to get out of shock and both happy that we were unscathed. It was an unusual feeling. It was like I was 100% alive in that moment. Like Tyler Durden says after the self staged car crash in the movie Fight Club: “it was a near life experience”.

You push the accelerator. Shift hard and fast. click-1-click-2-click-3-click-4-click-5. You are on the fast lane. Your eyes scan the road far and beyond. The needle blows past 100. The life begins. You mind: absolutely focused. Your breath: slow and steady. Eyes: staring straight cold. Everything clears off your thought process and you know only one thing: speed.

There’s something extraordinary about physical speed. And there’s even something better about your machine zooming past 100. I don’t exactly know what it is, but it feels good. May be it’s raw focus kicking out of instinct to survive, because a minor error would take you very very near to death. Or it’s the adrenaline rushing through your body, preparing your body for high energy action. Or it’s just the man in control of the machine.

I have always felt more alive when I cross 100. It’s stays with you for a while. It’s addictive, it’s seductive and sometimes just plain vindictive. If I have to go by the definition of nirvana(Wikipedia: “the state of being free from suffering, and the cycle of rebirth; as well as mental fetters, mental confusion”), I feel it above 100.

In those moments above 100, I feel out of this world; I’m free from the bondage to reality. All the emotion, happiness or anger; frustration or joy fades away. All the judgment only hovers around the speed. It’s liberating.

Mathematically, with every 10km that I add to my speed above 100 is approximately doubling the probability of a lethal mistake. That doesn’t stop me from adding to the speed. It just makes my focus narrower as the needle pushes more clockwise. The distractions just fall off the mind and it focuses straight ahead. This is my machine and speed assisted yoga.

At such a land speed, I’m always reminded of the following words from “the people that we love”:

speed kills coming down the mountain
speed kills coming down the street
speed kills with presence of mind and
speed kills if you know what I mean

Speed kills. That’s true. So, remember the lines above all the time you’re above 100. Because, when they call a car Porsche 911 widowmaker, they mean it.