Enfield Fury DX 175

Price: Rs 19,300 (on-road, 1984)

Engine: 163 cc, two-stroke, air-cooled, single-cylinder

Max Power: 16 hp at 6,300 rpm

Max Torque: 17.5 Nm at 5,600 rpm Transmission: Five-speed gearbox, chain final drive Suspension: Telescopic fork (F), twin coil-spring (R) Brakes: 260-mm disc (F), 160-mm drum (R) Wheels: 18-inch, 1.85 (F), 1.85 (R)

Weight: 120 kg

Gathering courage with caution, I broached the topic of the Fury with uncle Kareem. The wrinkles on his face quivered to form a faint smile. His eyes had a faraway look briefly, reminding him of the time he proudly rode it around.

With child-like excitement in his voice, Uncle spoke fondly about the Fury. ‘Nothing like a solid European machine,’ he exclaimed. Now his health didn’t allow him to step out much, let alone ride the bike. The Fury was his only child and he ensured it got serviced timely and the local mechanic, Monu, revved it up once a week. But he was quick to add that no one else was allowed to touch it.

I was relentless... and kept dragging Bobby to uncle’s place more frequently. Over the days the old man started to enjoy the attention. And we were mesmerized by his stories about the Fury. It was essentially a re-badged Zundapp KS175, imported from the iconic German bike maker. Enthusiasts who knew about the European brand lapped them up.

I think young people often give the aged a chance to revisit their youthful past. Maybe, all the energy rubs off on them too. Uncle would share animatedly how superior Fury was to the other so-called modern bikes of the time. Unlike the spoke wheels and drum brakes they offered, the DX 175 sported unheard-of features such as alloy wheels, a tachometer, and even a Brembo disc brake. The most thrilling bit (for those days) was the 16 hp the 163-cc single-cylinder, twostroke engine pumped out. Like a furious lightning bolt! Two-strokes were a breed of their own. Before I transgress, I’ll hold that thought for another day.

Then came the day when I gathered enough courage to ask permission for a short ride. To our surprise, it was granted reluctantly. Perhaps, he wanted to see the ageing Fury to breathe fire again.

Snapshots of that breezy evening are still etched in my memory. Cleaning the dust off the bike. Our beaming faces. Tiptoeing the Fury out of the garage. And the surreal feeling of opening the throttle on a deserted road. The inner fire ignited that night still glows. The child within lives.

— Sarmad Kadiri