Until we ride again

Pics: Enroute to Leh, Aug, 2007
Someone sees a deep meaning in a quote. Someone writes with a golden nib. Some even go further and attack a country. It's a little difficult getting used to the moods of time.
But I can't think of a better moment to look deep inside.
I feel like riding. Riding a motorcycle on an open highway answers a lot of difficult questions. Talking about highways, I just remembered something.
A good friend and fellow rider, Trishikh, is leaving for Kolkata as mentioned in the post below. He has been with me through almost 75% of my trials and tribulations here. I haven't got used to the feeling of him not being around.
He is leaving in a few days. He is a character and has character. Nicknamed Whisky he loves to get high. And one day, almost as if to prove it, he rode up to the second highest pass in the world on a puny 150cc bike.
Reed thin, erratic, and stable headed, most of the time he loves talking about rides. "Whatever I lack in size, I try to make up through my actions," he says. Put another way: Taking punishment is his way of fighting away identity blues.
Perhaps for the same reason he keeps a beard sometimes.
Together we have done Jaipur, Ranthambore, Chomu, Leh and a few other hot destinations.
Life is strange. But it will be stranger without Trishikh here in the City of the Mughals, as both Dalrymple and Dheeraj would have put it.
Here's wishing Dark Rider, as he calls himself, Godspeed.