She started preparing for the Raid last year! So how does she fare?
I hate numbers. They never seem to add up. I find most efforts to quantify things a tad too disturbing, which is why till date, TSD rallies still remain a mystery to me. So at last year’s Raid De Himalaya Reliability Trial, I announced out of the window of my eight-year old Maruti 800 to both man and mountain that I would be back in 2006 driving a Maruti Gypsy in theX-treme category.
The year went by faster than I had expected, and with less than a month to go for the 2006 Raid, there was still no sign of what was to be the most integral part of my enterprise — a Gypsy.
But somewhere in the middle of all hell breaking loose and meeting a psychic who told me that I was a mermaid in my past life, I decided that not going for the Raid was just not an option. This was no time to go que sera sera. Whatever would be would only be if I put my head to it.
Which wasn’t difficult because in my head I had been going sideways, negotiating the fast-medium-right-onto Batal bridge for a while now. So after 727 fights, 392 tantrums and endless fits of rage, I found myself looking at what was in all actuality my rally-ready Gypsy. Next stop, Shimla. Note to self: seemingly violent behaviour and sheer pigheadedness actually yield results.
I hate numbers. They never seem to add up. I find most efforts to quantify things a tad too disturbing, which is why till date, TSD rallies still remain a mystery to me. So at last year’s Raid De Himalaya Reliability Trial, I announced out of the window of my eight-year old Maruti 800 to both man and mountain that I would be back in 2006 driving a Maruti Gypsy in theX-treme category.
The year went by faster than I had expected, and with less than a month to go for the 2006 Raid, there was still no sign of what was to be the most integral part of my enterprise — a Gypsy.
But somewhere in the middle of all hell breaking loose and meeting a psychic who told me that I was a mermaid in my past life, I decided that not going for the Raid was just not an option. This was no time to go que sera sera. Whatever would be would only be if I put my head to it.
Which wasn’t difficult because in my head I had been going sideways, negotiating the fast-medium-right-onto Batal bridge for a while now. So after 727 fights, 392 tantrums and endless fits of rage, I found myself looking at what was in all actuality my rally-ready Gypsy. Next stop, Shimla. Note to self: seemingly violent behaviour and sheer pigheadedness actually yield results.
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