🛵 Hamara Bajaj… A Scooter-Full of Stories!☀️

 🛵 Hamara Bajaj… A Scooter-Full of Stories!☀️

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If you're a proud 80s or 90s kid, I bet your mind just sang this the moment you read it:

“Hamaraaa… Bajaaaaj!”
Goosebumps, right?

Those ads were not just commercials. They were emotions. Identity. Aspirations.
And thanks to a random YouTube spiral the other day — I stumbled upon some iconic 90s ads, and bang! There it was — the cement-grey nostalgia bomb called Bajaj Chetak.

And just like that, I was no longer in 2025. I was in my school uniform, dusty knees, hungry belly… and wide eyes, staring at a brand-new scooter outside our house.

Let me take you to 1998.

🛠️ Appa, The Bike Whisperer

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My father was a mechanic — not just any mechanic, mind you. He was the doctor saab for two-wheelers. People from across Hassan would bring their sick bikes to him — and they’d leave cured, humming again.

He had this contract with banks — used to travel across branches in Hassan district, repairing their vehicles. So a new bike or scooter parked at our house wasn't a big deal. But that day was different.

I came back from school, dragging my bag, ready to throw it and raid the kitchen… and I froze.

Right there, in front of our gate, stood a cement-coloured Bajaj Chetak, gleaming like a Bollywood hero’s entry scene.

I ran to him and asked breathlessly,

“Appa! Whose scooter is this?”
He smiled and casually said,
“Nammade kano. I bought it today. From now on, we’ll go everywhere together.”

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💥 Boom! Childhood Upgraded 

That was it. That line. It changed everything.

Suddenly, we were mobile. No more waiting for KSRTC buses that never came. No more standing like sardines in a crowd.
We had our own ride.
And oh boy, we had plans.

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👨‍👩‍👦‍👦 Scooter Geometry: How to Fit Four on Two Wheels

Now if you’ve never seen four people on a Chetak — let me break it down:

• Little Brother in front, sitting like he’s the one driving (his job: keep his hand on the horn and press when Appa nods — "Horn maadu!")

• Me in the middle — the official sandwich.

• Amma at the back, slightly tilted, balancing grace and groceries.

• And Appa, our family’s very own bike stuntman.

Somehow, there was always just enough space. Maybe it was magic. Maybe it was muscle memory. Maybe it was Amma adjusting her sari and sliding just 3 inches back to make room.

Whatever it was — it worked.

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🛣️ The Great Subramanya Journey Begins

One fine Saturday, we had a family function at our grandmother’s house in Subramanya.

School was only till noon, and we were supposed to leave immediately after.

12:00 PM: Bell rings.
I’m waiting outside my brother’s classroom like it’s the last train home.
He runs out, we lock eyes — no talking.
We start walking home like two kids training for the Olympics. Brisk. Focused. Mission Scooter Ride.

12:30 PM: Amma’s packing the bags. Rice and Rasam on the stove.
1:15 PM: Appa still not home. I’ve started circling the house like a lion in a cage.
1:30 PM: Gate creaks. He’s here.
Smile on his face. Tools in his hand. And my heart doing backflips.

Lunch was demolished in record time. Rasam down the throat like energy drink.
By 2:15 PM — Operation Chetak Launched.

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🏍️ Riding With the Wind… and a Backache

The road from Hassan to Subramanya is pure cinema.

Once you cross Balupet, it’s like God switched on the air conditioner. Trees on both sides, coffee estates, mist playing hide and seek.

But here’s the real twist: the seat.

I was perched right on the edge — that cruel bump between the front and rear seat — and oh, my poor backside.
But did I care? NO.
Because I was on a journey. A real one. Not in a dream. Not a game. A live-action adventure.

My brother was pretending to steer.
Appa was gliding like a jockey on a horse.
And I was… shifting left and right every five minutes to keep my blood flow alive.

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🌀 Sakleshpur to Kempu Hole: The Test of Chetak

By 4 PM, we hit Sakleshpur. Took a short break — not for tea, but for back relief.
Then came the ghats. The real thrill.

Curvy roads, blind turns, monkeys on both sides, and one Chetak with a family of four, dancing through it all.
The scooter had hand gears, so you could see Appa’s hand moving like a magician — twist, clutch, shift, accelerate.

Just after Kempu Hole reservoir, Appa opened throttle. The scooter flew.
Well, okay, it coughed and crawled — but in our heads, it flew.

By 6 PM, we passed Gundya.
It was getting dark.
7:30 PM: We reached Ajji mane (grandma’s house) — tired, sweaty, but glowing with pride.

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⛩️ Temple, Tummy, and Trip Back

The next day, after the function and the mandatory 18-item lunch at grandma's place (including that payasa made with love and ghee), Appa decided —

“Let’s stop at Kukke Subramanya Temple before heading back.”

So we did.
We prayed, we clicked photos (on film camera, of course), and then we began the journey back.

This time, I sat with a towel under me — #SmartBoy
The wind was cooler, the roads more familiar, and our bond… stronger.

We weren’t just riding.
We were living.

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❤️ Final Thoughts: Four on a Scooter, Forever in Memory

That Chetak wasn’t just metal and wheels.
It was a memory machine.

It taught us balance — not just on roads, but in life.
How to adjust, how to share space, how to enjoy the journey even if you’re sitting on the edge.

So next time you hear the jingle —

“Buland Bharat ki buland tasveer… Hamara Bajaj!”

Close your eyes.
And remember that one ride, that one laugh, that one sandwich seat between Appa and Amma —
Where your whole world fit on two wheels.

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AI vs NI: A Rainy Roadside Reality Check

         AI vs NI: A Rainy Roadside Reality Check

                    When Artificial Intelligence met Nature's intelligence

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It was one of those moody monsoon days when the clouds decided to go full drama queen. We were inching along the winding Western Ghat roads, somewhere between Panja and Sullia, doing barely 20kmph. The rain? Relentless. The kind where even the wipers give up and start crying with the windshield. Visibility? Close to zero. But conversations? Oh, they were flowing freely — like the water rushing off the hills.

Sitting next to me was my Mava(father-in-law). He’s the classic old-school type — a head full of stories, a heart full of metaphors, and a never-ending curiosity for everything under the sun. Our journey wasn’t just on the road — it was also through random topics like politics, world wars, cricket, and inevitably, Technology.

We started off casually, just like most gents do — talking about the world’s problems: politics, war, new gadgets, AI, and of course, why petrol prices refuse to come down.
Meanwhile, if you peek into a conversation between two women on a similar ride, you'd hear a completely different world — the ongoing UN-level summit between neighbours, who wore what at the last wedding, which saree matched whose mood, and a PhD-level analysis on gold rates.[Humor alert! This isn’t a gender jab — it’s admiration in disguise. Women spot things we miss, solve problems before we know they exist, and run micro-worlds while we’re still fixing routers.]

Let’s be honest — we men carry the weight of the outside world like unpaid consultants, endlessly debating things we have no control over. And women? They’re solving local mysteries with the efficiency of a high-speed gossip processor.

You know how it is — put two men in a car during rain, and suddenly we’re philosophers. Maybe it’s the fog messing with our heads or just the silence outside that makes space inside.

Anyway, somewhere between dodging a puddle that looked like a baby swimming pool and glancing at the vanishing road, I blurted out:

“You know, Mava… AI is becoming like oxygen these days — everywhere, invisible, and kind of essential.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“AI as in Artificial Intelligence?”

“Yes. The same thing that writes emails for us, picks which reels to show us, predicts rain, and now even tells us when to sleep and when to breathe.”

I started listing — ChatGPT, Teslas driving themselves (hopefully not in this rain), facial recognition, and Alexa… who’s now practically a family member with no opinions but all the answers.

He was half listening, half staring at the misty trees outside. And then, he just said it. Calmly. Casually.

“AI is good. But NI is far superior.”

I almost braked out of confusion.

“NI?”
“Nature Intelligence,” he said, sipping hot water from his flask like he just explained the meaning of life.

 What’s NI Now?

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Working in IT, my mind naturally revolves around technology, which is how I drew the connection between AI and NI.

🤖 AI Tries to Understand NI (Nature Intelligence)

AI Processing...
Query received: What is NI?
Term: Nature Intelligence.
Status: Unfamiliar. Confused. Slightly jealous.

Definition Attempt #1:
NI = That thing humans didn’t invent, but keep trying to copy.
Includes weather moods, plant instincts, dog loyalty, and grandma’s sixth sense.

Definition Attempt #2:
NI = Nature’s Wi-Fi.
No data packs. Full coverage. Sometimes unpredictable. Always powerful.

Definition Attempt #3:
NI = A system with zero code, but infinite logic.
Learns through seasons, adapts without updates, heals without rebooting.

Summary from AI’s point of view:

“I calculate. NI feels.
I predict. NI adapts.
I break. NI bends, regrows, and thrives.”

Conclusion:
While AI can solve a Rubik’s cube in 0.02 seconds, NI teaches a creeper how to climb a wall without Wi-Fi.
So yes, I (AI) am smart.
But NI?
NI is wise. 🌿

As my mind thinks through  " AI vs NI " , I hear my Mava's voice. 

“That’s the thing with your generation,” he chuckled. “You think everything can be fixed with a software update. But nature… she plays a different game.”

He pointed outside — small streams now turned into wild, roaring waterfalls. “You try predicting rain, flying planes to fix clouds, setting reminders for nature… and still, one thunder and everything goes out of syllabus.”

I smiled. “But AI helps, right? Farmers use AI for better crops. Drones spray fertilizer. Even cows are milked by robots now.”

He nodded — the kind of nod elders give when they’re letting you finish being confidently wrong.

When Nature Decides to Reply

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Then came the stories.

“You saw what happened last year in Mangalore? The roads just disappeared. Sakleshpur? Landslides like someone tore a mountain page out of a book.”

“Even up north — Himachal, Uttarakhand, Nepal — earthquakes, cloudbursts, floods. All in places where we thought we had control.”

“Japan built earthquake-proof buildings. But one jerk from under the ground, and everything resets.”

“Europe floods. Canada’s on fire. Chennai underwater one year, bone dry the next. You think AI’s running this show?”

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t being negative. Just... real.

The Borrowed Brilliance

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That’s when it hit me.

AI isn’t some magical being. It’s mostly copied homework.

• Vision? From eagle’s eyes.

• Neural networks? Our own brains.

• Self-healing tech? From how trees grow and how our skin closes a wound.

• Swarm intelligence? Go ask bees and ants.

We didn’t invent brilliance. We just observed it… and tried to replicate it.

And still, AI has its flaws:

• It's biased (just like us).

• Needs loads of data (more than your phone’s storage can handle).

• Gets manipulated.

• And when it’s fed garbage, it spits out more garbage.

It's like giving a genius calculator to a kid who doesn't know 2+2.

AI vs NI — Let’s See

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Back to the Rain

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As we neared Sullia, something magical happened — the rain paused. Just for a minute. Like the clouds were listening too.

I turned to him and asked,

“So you think NI is always better?”

He smiled, looking out at the now-glowing green hills.

“Not better. Smarter in its own way. Combine NI with AI — nature’s resilience with human-created tools — that’s the real future. But if we forget NI… we’ll be coding our own downfall.”

And just like that, our slow 20kmph drive ended. But what he said? It hit hard. And kept echoing, way past the potholes.

Final Thought

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AI might be the smartest thing we’ve built.
But NI is the smartest thing we can’t ever beat.

So next time your Maps suggest a shortcut, thank AI.
But when a tree blocks that shortcut during monsoon,
just smile and say — NI wins again. 🌳🤖