When you first step into the world on your
own—fresh out of college, wide-eyed and full of ambition—there’s a certain fire
within you. The early years of your job make you feel invincible. You call it
self-confidence. I now know it’s a cousin called overconfidence. You believe
every choice you make is right, every word you speak is gospel. It’s the kind
of naivety only youth can afford.
I was no different.
Despite my father’s disapproval, I bought a bike that I thought defined me.
Years later, that decision turned out to be one of the biggest flops in the
Indian bike market between 2007 and 2010. But that's a story for another time.
This blog is about something far more precious — the story of why I chose the
JAWA.
👨🔧 My Father: The Unsung Maestro of Machines
He specialized in what were then legends on two wheels — the JAWA, YEZDI, Rajdoot, Yamaha RX100 & RX135, Bajaj Chetak, Priya, and Lambretta scooters.
I grew up watching those machines line up in front of our shop like loyal soldiers returning to their commander.
Between 1992 and 1996, before the Yezdi factory in Mysore shut down, these bikes were more than just vehicles. They were pride. Owning a JAWA or Roadking meant you were someone. My father? He was the doctor everyone trusted with their prized rides.
He was respected, admired, and loved — not just for what he fixed, but for how he did it. With patience. With pride. With heart.
With the rise of Hero Honda’s
fuel-efficient 4-stroke models, these rugged legends began to disappear.
Slowly, the symphony of their roaring engines faded. By the 2000s, only a few
die-hard fans brought their JAWAs and YEZDIs to our shop.
But my father never lost hope.
He’d often say, "These bikes will roar again. Their story isn't
over."
Even after we had to shut the workshop due to his health, we held on to two
YEZDI chassis and one Rajdoot engine. He didn’t see them as scrap. To him, they
were memories, stories, and perhaps, a dream waiting to be reborn.
After he passed, parting with those frames was like giving away a piece of him.
🛣 A Bumpy Ride, and a Familiar Roar
The years that followed his absence weren’t
easy. We faced more storms than sunshine. But time has a strange way of
circling back.
A few years ago, whispers of a JAWA comeback started floating around. Every
time I read something online, my heart would race — as if my father’s dream was
inching closer to reality.
When I heard that Mahindra had revived the Classic Legends brand and was
planning to reintroduce JAWA, it felt like a personal win. Not just for me—but
for that grease-covered man in a humble shop who believed these bikes had more
to give.
And then came the JAWA 42 — a fusion of retro soul and modern spirit.
⚙️ The JAWA 42: Riding Through Time
The bike I own is JAWA 42. It’s not just a
machine. It’s an emotion. A tribute.
·
What I love:
·
⚡ Speed & Pickup: The
torque kicks in early and strong, making city rides thrilling and highways
liberating.
·
🕰 Classic Vibe, Modern
Soul: Its retro styling draws nostalgia, while the updated engine and features
make it road-ready for today.
·
🎨 Design: The matte
finish, bar-end mirrors, and sculpted tank catch eyes wherever I go.
·
What could be better:
·
🪑 The Seat: It’s a bit
firm for long rides. An aftermarket cushion helps, but it could’ve been more
ergonomic.
·
🧍 Posture: The
aggressive styling slightly compromises comfort for taller riders.
·
🔧 Service Reach: In
smaller towns, finding skilled mechanics or spares may take effort — though
it's improving.
📊 Classic vs Modern – The
Comparison
A side-by-side look at what once was, and
what now is — honoring both ends of the timeline.
🏍️ The Present Roar – My JAWA 42
🕊 Full Circle
I sometimes imagine him, standing by the
shop, wiping his hands on a cloth, nodding at my bike and saying, "This
one… you got right."
That thought alone is worth every ride, every rupee, every memory.
✍️ What’s Your Story?
Did you ever buy a bike against the odds? Or one that connected you to someone you loved? I’d love to hear your story.
Share your thoughts in the comments. Let’s celebrate not just machines, but the moments and people that make them unforgettable.
Until next time,
Keep the engines warm and the passion alive.
— A Mechanic's Son, A Rider's Heart.
Hi Keerthi, your story about you, your Jawa, and the special bond with your father is truly touching. The way you described it is wonderful. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful moment!
ReplyDeleteThank you
DeleteHi Keerthi, your story about you, your Jawa, and the special bond with your father is truly touching. The way you described it is wonderful. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful moment!
ReplyDeleteThank you
ReplyDeleteThis is such a nice touch to the emotional bond between a father and son, captured very well...Look forward to many more of your blogs Keerthi...
ReplyDeleteThank you
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