I’m sad when the journey ends

On camera and behind it, perennial ‘musafir’ Sanjay Gupta is pulling no punches

“My first bike was a Hero Honda Cd100. I had a dark windshield on it and rode around with Take My Breath Away playing as my mental background score,” says Sanjay Gupta of his first two wheels. Back when it became available, the CD100 cost ` 500 to book, and was, in fact booked by his friend, producer and actor Atul Agnihotri. At the last minute, Agnihotri’s parents decided against letting their son buy a motorcycle, and Gupta managed to convince his father to buy it instead. Thus began a stream of vehicles that have passed through his hands and continue to, to this day. Auteur, biker and Khar-Bandra boy, Sanjay Gupta fit us into a busy day between meetings to talk motorcycles, films, touchstones and whole-wheat bread. Disarmingly candid from the get go, Sanjay met us in shorts and a basketball jersey. In life, as in his films, he wears not-giving-a-f**k on his sleeve.

Sanjay Gupta, apart from being a well-known director of action movies and thrillers, is also often in the news either gifting motorcycles, or receiving them from famous friends. Considering the huge surge in motorcycling as a lifestyle statement, you’d be forgiven for thinking that bikes make for an appropriate accessory for someone in the film industry. Nothing could be further from the truth. Gupta has been a motorcyclist long before it was fashionable. He’s owned and given up more motorcycles than he can count, been there, done that and bought the XXL T-shirt.

having started as director when he was just 22 years old, his interest in motorcycling and his film career have overlapped continuously. There was the famous Kawasaki dirt bike his friend, producer and actor atul agnihotri rode in Aatish. His personal Honda Valkyrie made an appearance in Musafir. Sunil Shetty is a bit of a biker badass in Kaante. We’d love to run down a timeline of motorcycles with Sanjay, but he just can’t remember them all. “I once lost three bikes at the same time: the Rune, the B-King and the Rocket III,” he explains. All these are bonafide exotics, and Sanjay rode them years ago.

These days, things are a lot tamer with his harley-Davidson Super Glide Custom and Yamaha VMax, a gift from friend and actor John Abraham. Sanjay will continue this tradition shortly, he says, when he gifts John another motorcycle. At this point, I looked at our director/photographer Gaurav with abject disappointment. “I’m not a speed freak,” says Sanjay, justifying his primary ride to some degree. “Says the man who went ***kmph while *** without a *** and a ***,” I retort. Parts of this interview have been redacted to protect the temporarily insane. “I woke up in a cold sweat the next day, realising what I had done the previous night. It’s just not worth it,” Sanjay explains. Needless to say, these days he’s all about safety and never sets off on a long ride without a full complement of kit.

While sportsbikes aren’t really his thing, his interests vary when it comes to more upright modes of transportation. “Have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich made with a special bread,” Sanjay insists to our resident unicyclist Abhay at some point. We’ve driven down from Pune, so he’s concerned that we’re running on fumes. “Where do you think the f**king weight comes from? I swim, I play tennis, I f**king go to the

I ONCE LOST THREE BIKES AT THE SAME TIME

gym... b****hod...” he adds. The conversation turns to alcohol and how he doesn’t get single malts, and how Dev Anand used to order a single whisky at parties, do his rounds and leave without drinking it.

Part of the preference for cruisers is to accommodate age and girth, while the rest is merely pragmatism. “In a ten-hour ride, you’ll get maybe six hours of highway and four in f**king city traffic, so a cruiser is more manageable,” he explains. Even when he’s abroad, thanks to his HOG card, he’s off to the local Harley dealer to rent a bike whenever time permits. He recommends riding near Cape Town in South Africa, which has some spectacular roads, quaint village stops and great weather. There’s a travel feature in there somewhere. The sandwiches are delicious, with a kind of toast-like texture without the sawdust flavour of regular whole-wheat bread.

“I really miss my Honda Rune, that was my dream bike. It was like losing a girlfriend. Boss... ghum hai!” he says of the one that got away. After a point, he offered the guy he sold it to double, to no avail. It had 80km on the odo when he sold it and he hasn’t managed to find one since. Another actor friend owns one, but doesn’t keep it well, much to Sanjay’s ire. “I’m a bawa like that,” he says, justifying his disappointment. Judging by the absolutely spotless cars and bikes parked in and around his garage, I’ll believe it. When he started making some money in his career, he bought a mitsubishi Lancer SFX in a bright red colour and washed it

I REALLY MISS MY HONDA RUNE, THAT WAS MY DREAM BIKE. IT WAS LIKE LOSING A GIRLFRIEND. BOSS... GHUM HAI!

painstakingly every Sunday. The local kids thought of him as the crazy guy who wouldn’t let the watchman do the job, but he managed to convert a few to his way eventually.

Sanjay is pretty active on Twitter and appreciates the way Triumph has been reaching out to a wide audience through social media. “For the longest time, I’ve had my eye on the Bonneville. In fact, I saw one on the road and literally chased the guy down to ask him about it,” he says. “It’s nice, it’s value for money.” Sanjay’s value barometer is sharp, as he bemoans some of the crazy prices asked for big bikes these days. “Especially the BMWs. I think those guys have lost it.”

Speaking of cars, Sanjay isn’t into performance vehicles as much as he is into luxury. His personal cars include an Audi Q7 and a previousgeneration Mercedes-Benz S-Class, while there’s an E-Class and a Toyota Innova for the family. If you’ve lived in Mumbai through the 90s, you’ll be fairly used to the Q7 as the quintessential Bollywood ride. Sanjay calls it the Bollywood, er... companion? Escort? His previous rides include the Porsche Cayenne and a BMW X5. The Porsche, he offers, was his worst ownership experience, thanks to a certain importer of notoriety. It’s a far cry from the pre-owned imported Honda Accord (with sunroof) or the Maruti Esteem he drove around in the lean years. “WTF?” I exclaim when he tells me that the Innova is four years old. It’s minty fresh and makes my four-year-old Polo look like a beater, and I still have the original protective plastic on the visors.

We heard that Sanjay was in the market for a naked sport bike, so we had taken the Kawasaki Z1000 to him since we had it around. A quick ride around the compound and he was impressed, immediately assessing the

light weight and accessibility of the bike, while giving it a thumbs-up for value. It also looks the business, so that’s a plus. My assessment after a couple of days with the Z wasn’t quite as positive, but what the f**k do I know? I’ve never even ridden a B-King. By this time, it had been four hours since we first started talking to him and apart from the renewed stream of people with demands on his time, there was nothing to indicate that he wouldn’t go four more. A stream of consciousness transcript would take far more than a few pages to properly document. The colourful characters, anecdotes, places, times and motorcycles on our extensive recordings intersected with my own memories and experiences of the years gone by, before I made the move from metro to town.

“Must do this again!” said the SMS to Abhay later that night. Definitely, Sanjay. I’ll make sure I wash my car beforehand.

FOR THE LONGEST TIME, I’VE HAD MY EYE ON THE BONNEVILLE. IN FACT, I SAW ONE ON THE ROAD AND LITERALLY CHASED THE GUY DOWN TO ASK HIM ABOUT IT