Indian biking scene has really changed over the past few years. It has grown from that flat-chested hairy fat teenager that no one cared about, to that 34DD Brazillian-waxed anorexic slut that everyone wants a piece of (How the fuck do these girls do that anyway?). We still don’t get the kind of equipment or the kind of respect that western riders do, but we’re getting there, probably in another half of a century or so.

Watching all of these fresh-out-of-the-uterus “bikers” lick each other’s balls out on Facebook makes me laugh. Watching all of these struggling-with-job-and-wife-and-2-kids-and-a-whore-of-a-mother-in-law-but-still-trying-to-ride bikers makes me cry. But who am I to judge? The ability to observe without judgement is the highest form of intelligence, and observation is what I’ll try to do in this article, with the occasional bits of judgement, raw, juicy, oh-such-sweet-hot-cum-covered judgement that we all love to deny. Every biker you ever meet can be categorised as one the following 6 types. 

1. Breakfast biker:

Their motto in life:

I’ve got money, please give a fuck about me!

30-40 years old, owns a liter class bike, maybe a few. Never wears riding gears, rarely a helmet. All of his friends, his wife, his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s dog, and some random guy walking down the street have a photo posing on the bike, but not him, probably because it’s illegal. Not active on social media, not good at it either. Rides with slippers, shorts, cap, sunglasses, and a sleeveless. Never did more than 200 kms in day.

What they think they look like.

What they actually look like.

Breakfast bikers are rich, but they don’t have the brain to know what to spend all that fucking money on. Their bikes have the most obnoxiously loud exhausts, the most please-stab-me-in-the-eye gay paint schemes, and the most please-stab-me-in-the-eye-repeatedly-and-then-piss-inside-my-brain bright aftemarket headlights. They ride with a horde of other like-minded individuals, creating general sadness around 100 kms of all major cities every Sunday morning.

2. Walking-bag-of-cash biker:

Their motto in life:

I’ve got money, and I don’t give a fuck about you.

Mostly middle-aged, on the brink of getting his second heart attack. Always has a noticeable tummy, tries to hide it with a tight riding jacket. Wears full, top quality gear, and understands why he needs to wear it. Owns a few Harleys and superbikes, all brand new, with VIP numbers. Intelligent, calculative, but passionate about motorcycles. Doesn’t care about social media. Some are down to earth and friendly, others will brutally rape you in your face if you get within 50 feet of their bike.

They are either filthy rich by default, or filthy rich by saving and investing wisely over the last 30 odd years. Now that they are about to die soon, and have nothing else left to do in life, they try their best to have as much fun on 2 wheels as possible. They like to tour, but aching joints and slowing reflexes restrict their range considerably. Their bikes are well maintained, well equipped, and always look stunning. These are the people who waited too long to live their dream, but are now trying to buy it back with a truck load of cash.

3. Walking-bag-of-anus-pus biker:

Their motto in life:

My cock is 1.4 inches long, hence I’ll race everyone everywhere everytime. 

School or college kid, someone who has recently become self-aware and discovered the joys of masturbation. Hasn’t heard of riding gear, stupidly naive, will probably get himself killed because of his ignorance. Doesn’t own anything, blackmailed his parents into buying him a Honda Dio, which he savagely molests inside and out. Far too active on social media, calls himself a “FreAk”, tags 100 people in every fucking photo of his. Insufferable amount of SMS language, and repeated embarrassing references to his Dio as “ma girlFrieNd” or “ma beAst”. Argues with everyone, is always wrong, never admits.

Also called not-really-a-biker, he keeps asking everyone “WaTz Ur tOp Speed guYz“, while giving impossible figures for his own, and then gets abusive when everyone tells him a Dio can’t do 169 Kmph, even with a K&N filter. Races everyone through insane city traffic, and then boasts that chutiya superbikes can’t keep up with him. Stunts regularly, on public roads, without even a helmet. Their bikes always have superbright headlights, which are always irritatingly white in color. They graduate to Pulsars and FZs, and become even more cocky and intolerable. If you are reading this and you satisfy all of these benchmarks, please go to the nearest hardware store, buy a rusty saw, and cut your head off.

4. Confused biker:

Their motto in life:

I don’t know what to do, so I’ll do what this guy is doing. 

Middle-class, engineer, comfortably well-off, relatively young. He is matured enough to understand that life isn’t just 9-to-6 office and then boring sex with your wife, as your asshole kid watches through the keyhole, but doesn’t understand how to change that. He looks to other people for inspiration, blatantly trying to copy their style, desperately trying to blend in, hopelessly trying to belong. Wears gear only because others do. Owns an Activa. Tries but sucks at social media. Has a kind of psycho-sexual fixation with bungee cords.

Most of these confused bikers buy a Royal Enfield and join Bullet gangs, because a lot of people seem to be doing that. They go for a few rides with them, but then get bored of the bullshit, the politics, and their own idiotic bike. Some of them upgrade, realise their calling in life, and become Hemorrhoid bikers. Others just stay confused. Their confusion generates anger, which they take out on other confused bikers in forums and on social media by showing off their authority in defaming every bike that they don’t own, and repeatedly bragging about that 1 long ride they did 5 years ago. They are extremely lazy, their rides never start on time, and always involve tea/smoke/cock-sucking breaks every 300 meters.

5. Hemorrhoid biker:

Their motto in life:

I have no money, no leaves, and no girlfriend, but I’ll happily ride 16 hours a day for the next 3 weeks thorough a raging storm of ass, dust and cum, just to see a place I could’ve easily seen in 3 days by taking a flight that would’ve cost half of what I’ll spend riding there, while also being exponentially more comfortable and safe. Why? Shits and giggles mate, shits and giggles. 

IT guy, lower-middle class, always wears dirty clothes, stupid grin on his face, hasn’t used a comb or a trimmer since 12th grade, and has a lot of stories to share. Loves motorcycles more than himself, for no discernible reason. ATGATT is ridiculously obvious for him. Mostly young, but age is no restriction for being insane. Takes risks, does things beyond logic, obsessively focussed on doing what his heart says, no matter how insurmountable the odds may be. Mildly popular on social media.

It took me to Ladakh.

High probability of finding hemorrhoids inside their anus due to impossible hours spent saddled up on an uncomfortable seat for most part of the year. No savings or worldly possessions of any kind, apart from bike, gear, and spare parts. Mostly they ride bikes from 150 to 300 ccs, bikes they have bought on a life-threatening loan, after borrowing money from friends and family for the down-payment. They tour extensively, help other riders, and know the entire country’s roads like the tip of their penis. Eternally optimistic, they fight their entire lives against parents, friends, girlfriends, wives and bosses to keep the fire burning. They always want to break free, to experience life, to enjoy the journey, and they always do, but only after a lengthy Bollywood-style struggle with the rest of the universe.

6. Woman biker:

Their motto in life:

I have boobs. 

Young, successful, independent, she is the kind of girl who every guy dreams of, but never gets. She has that masculine side that frequently gets her in trouble, but drives her passion as well. Insanely popular on social media, with little or no effort. Treated like an albino monkey shark by most, hated by Hemorrhoid bikers for stealing their attention. Rides all sorts of bikes, mostly geared. Always nice.

Their skills are mostly underestimated because of their gender, and even their slightest achievements are aggressively cheered on, almost to the point of embarrassment. Things done by non-vaginated riders are quietly tossed down the nearest gutter, while the same things done by their vaginated counterparts are hailed as milestones of human evolution. This fame comes with a price, and they are frequently on the receiving end of unsolicited advances from Walking-bag-of-anus-pus bikers and other such breathing pieces of donkey poo.

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This is my list of 6 type of riders you’ll meet in your life. I personally like to think of myself as being a Hemorrhoid biker, but there’s a high probability I’m just a Confused Walking-bag-of-anus-pus biker. What do you think you are?

Inspiration by Nick Louis, words by me 🙂