Why Riding Feels So Liberating

It was Monday, 22nd September, around 6 am. We had just left Bangalore towards Arunachaleswarar Temple. Two of my friends were on Sambit's Himalayan, leading the way, while I followed behind, riding solo (shoutout to Ayaz for lending me his machine). The weather was in our favour, cozy, calm, almost perfect. We had done aabout 40 kms when Spotify, out of nowhere, threw me Ore Piya by Bumble Bee. And that's when a thought hit me:

Why is riding so liberating? How come everything else fades when you're on that machine?

My brain switched into its poetic mode, and I started narrating the "why" to myself inside the helmet. What followed was less of an explanation and more like a conversation with myself, a raw feeling, a moment I experienced on that stretch of road.

If you're looking for the short answer, it's this:

(still thinking how to put all these into 2 sentences)

But if you're still here, and reading, here's how it feels like:

When you are riding that bike, you finally find yourself in a space where it's just you and all your lingering thoughts. You are reflecting on everything that's happening in your life. You've finally found some quiet time to think out loud. Inside that helmet, it feels *private", a kind of privacy you can't get anywhere else. It's like you can talk to yourself without fear of being judged, without anyone noticing. That helmet, that piece of plastic and padding, becomes the one thing that listens to you. You throw all your anger, your frustration, your sadness at it.

That bike, the helmet, the road ahead, all these non-living things become your close friends for a while. You're having the conversation you wished you could have had with that special "someone". And suddenly, you realize these objects are giving you the kind of comfort and warmth you expected from a person. That's when you break. You shatter. Your eyes are now moist, vision blurry. You start screaming, quite loud, yet nothing reaches the world outside your helmet, it swallows it all!

You're too shattered to even lift a hand, so you just let them rain. But just-in time, the windblast hits your face, taking some of the weight off your chest, like nature itself is trying to console you. The air feels like a warm hug. You embrace it. The engine noise now feels soothing, and all you see that moment is the road ahead. You pull the throttle harder. Suddenly, everything else disappears. Everything fades. For a moment, you are flying. You feel in control. You feel free. You feel alive.

Now even your Spotify algorithm seems to get you. It switches to something uplifting. You start to sing out loud. You start lauging for no reason. Maybe even moving a little on your seat. For a moment, you feel invincible. The world is still. The road is yours. And you forget everything that happened a while ago!

You fell apart and rebuilt yourself on the road, like it was nothing.

In that moment, nothing else exists, just you, the engine, the wind, the road ahead, and the music. That is liberation.

And that is what it feels like when you are riding that machine, at least to me.