Had a dream about a motorcycle, it was flying...

IThese lines from Harry Potter ring true every time I recall my first encounter with motorcycles. I can still feel the wind blowing on my face and slightly lifting off my open-face helmet. Gripping on to the handlebar with my life and harnessing it to ensure it didn’t swivel out of my control. My nerve senses firing and making me feel alive every single time — I swear, I could have been flying.

Unlike most kids who grew up in the 1990s, my first crush was not the obvious Yamaha RX100. I longed for something more exotic and unattainable back then — the lesser known Enfield Fury DX 175. Looking at sepia-toned pictures of the Fury gives me the goosebumps even today. And it’s not just the bike, but the journey, pain, and discoveries that tumble out every time I go back to my treasure trove and recall one of my most memorable bike rides.

Back in the day, the Fury seemed like it had been teleported from the future — it boasted of fancy cycle-parts and legendary European genes. By the time we managed to catch a glimpse of these magnificent beasts, they seemed to disappear on the stretched roads ahead. And we were left with a trail of magical moments scattered by some seasoned bikers during their ritual evening session at popular tea stalls. Stories of them trying to tame the mystical German steed were what legends were made of. I was captivated and had to ride one... soon!