I take it for granted—I know I’m in for a ride. I know I have nothing to worry about. I know I can just glide along. I know I can push it to its limits.

I am not repelled by its bright color; on the contrary, it sets the mood for the journey. Yes, journey. A unhurried, unfazed journey. For all the odd traffic that the Pondy streets can throw at it. For all those odd jaywalkers. For all those not-so-odd bumps in the road. ‘Cause all it does is a-cruise.

Pondy and the BSA Street Rider. Think Old Monk and Coke. Think jeans and sneakers. Think music and lyrics.