Why I’m an Avid Gearhead
There’s something about the open road, the hum of the engine, the sudden shift in wind, and the rhythmic pulse of asphalt under tires, that resets my mind. I’m not just a weekend rider. I’m a lifelong gearhead who finds joy, balance, and connection in the saddle of my Kawasaki Ninja.
The Machine That Moves Me
My Kawasaki Ninja isn’t just a bike, it’s an extension of who I am. Precision-built and performance-driven, it mirrors the kind of work I pursue: streamlined, tuned, and reliable under pressure.
Owning and maintaining a high-performance machine requires care, attention to detail, and discipline, traits that also shape how I approach leadership, writing, and process design.
Brotherhood of the Ride
I’m part of a motorcycle club, a group of like-minded riders who share a love for the road and respect for the ride. These moments build a quiet but powerful sense of camaraderie.
There’s a code in the biking world: ride responsibly, help your crew, respect the machine. These values shape how I collaborate, lead, and move forward with purpose.
Stories from the Road
Every ride tells a story. The foggy descents past Sakleshpur and solo rides spark clarity. I document them through GoPro, photography, and journaling, my fuel for creativity.
These rides remind me that movement, physical or intellectual, is how we stay alive and alert to possibility.
Twilight Rides and City Escapes
Evening rides are a sacred ritual for me. As the city quiets, I often slip through the outskirts to find clarity in motion. The Kawasaki Ninja glides through streetlight silhouettes and open flyovers with poetic rhythm.
There’s something grounding about riding out when the rest of the world winds down, it’s an introspective release, a meditative burn of stress, and a celebration of solitude.
The Gathering Ground
Before every long ride, we regroup at a chosen meetup point, checking tire pressure, syncing comms, and briefing the route. It’s part ritual, part routine, but fully essential to the experience of safe, shared adventure.
These moments capture the spirit of collective preparation. Even in professional settings, I carry this habit: aligning goals, visualizing journeys, and setting off with mutual trust.
Chasing Horizons
Highway rides are where I feel most at home, where the lines blur and the journey becomes the destination. The wind shapes your breath, the road tunes your focus, and your senses recalibrate to clarity.
I chase horizons not just for thrill but for growth. Much like innovation, riding requires intuition, feedback, and balance. The road teaches, if you listen.
Pit Stops and Conversations
Every long ride includes its signature pause, the chai stall, the fuel station, the quick chain lube. But it’s not just about machines; it’s about connection. We swap stories, troubleshoot issues, and recharge, both our bikes and our minds.
These moments remind me that even in motion, recovery is part of progress. I build this rhythm into how I lead and support teams too, pace, reflect, then push again.
The Ride Home
The ride back always feels different, calmer, slower, reflective. Whether we clocked 200km or 600km, there’s a sense of arrival, of having journeyed not just physically, but mentally. It’s during these quieter stretches that I often find a sense of closure, on thoughts that were once tangled, ideas that needed stillness, or problems that felt too fast to catch during the workweek.
Helmet off, jacket loosened, parked at a roadside tea shop or simply watching the sun dip behind distant trees, these are moments where time feels generously slow. We speak less, we listen more, to ourselves and to each other. That decompression is as vital as the thrill of the ride itself.
It’s also the time where the storytelling begins. What went wrong? Who took the wrong turn? What route was perfect? These stories will live on long after the fuel is spent. I often translate this reflection into how I document and lead, what worked, what could improve, and what deserves to be remembered.
The road home teaches me that no adventure is complete without introspection. And that every strong return is built on mindful departure. As a rider, a writer, and a leader, I carry that philosophy into every road I take, on two wheels or through teams and tasks.