Bikerdude reminisces about bikes he has owned and especially his relationship with his black Hero Honda Splendour.

 When it grew old and would stop in the rain, Id take it aside and curse it gently until it sputtered reluctantly back to life. When it had its customary flat-tyre at 11pm on a Sunday evening, I’d always kick the other wheel and abuse it in the most loving manner, while the impossible-to-find mechanic would smile evilly and say “tube hogbittide(gone) saar”. And whenever I jammed its non-existent brakes, it would always oblige me with a hair-raising squeak and crash into a wall.