Mind over Matter - Srijeet Mukherjee

Can Riding be = Flow State?

As a long-time Dilliwallah, as soon as I tap my left toes to engage first gear, my mind goes into a tizzy. I become one with the machine and am forced to navigate through a host of situations: maintaining safe distance with others in the traffic, that oil slick on the road, that wrong-side over-taker, the countdown on the traffic light, the patch of broken road, the perennial cows and the surprise cats and dogs springing suddenly out of nowhere and then deciding on the best strategy - flight, flight or freeze. That apart, there’s the incessant honking and the effervescent, unpardonable flowing of French. Then there's the navigation dock for which I truly need a third eye. It’s truly a blink and miss situation for turns! Though all of this improves alertness as a rider, the cognitive load hits the fan; the stress levels shoot through the roof. But is that what motorcycling is supposed to be?

Well, the 2021 UCLA study says a big fat NO! It says that motorcycling is supposed to create a ‘flow state’ where a 20 minute ride could reduce cortisol levels by 28%. Each time I do a Gurgaon-Delhi run, I question the credibility of the study as beads of persp rest on my brows. And all this when I ride the simplest heritage/classic category motorbike.

Recently, I moved to Bhutan for work and the Dilliwallah became a hilly-wallah. I haven’t gotten the permit to bring my bike yet but I have done multiple rounds of Paro-Thimphu-Paro in four-wheelers and the driving experience has been the polar opposite. Firstly, the population is less and the traffic is sparse. In the rural and suburban settings, you can go for miles without noticing any other vehicles. In big towns like Paro and Thimphu, there is traffic - and you will feel it during office hours. But there is no honking and definitely no French. Au contraire, every sentence would probably end in the ever so respectful ‘la’. The amount of respect and empathy is so ingrained that I am often astounded by the calmness of it all.

In big towns like Thimphu, yielding to pedestrians is such a huge thing here - as it is in so many other countries - that if you don’t you’ll probably want to hide in some dark corner in shame. And the navigation dock? What navigation dock? There’s practically just one road! One road up, one road down

There is a junction at Chuzom where you need to make the critical decision of whether you want to go to Haa or Thimphu or to Phuntsholing (go back to where you came from!). And if the road doesn’t calm you, the scenes will - though the bovine perseveres! You ride for kilometers at a stretch beside the river. That venerable thump will now have company of fierce waters crashing against boulders. Not an audiophile? No problem.

Look ahead and you’ll see hill upon hill upon hill rolling into the horizon. And on a clear day, the sky and the tufts of white clouds are spectacularly breathtaking! This instills my belief in the 2021 UCLA study once again. Riding through these roads might just lower cortisol levels and help you enter into that meditative ‘flow state’.

Don’t be a Gama

A familiar oily smell reminds me of the chhole-bhature that I hogged in the gullies of Shakapur Khas when I had just gotten employed. The rush, the shoving, the mixed-up orders amidst the fumes and the grime made it almost mandatory to join an ‘akhara’ before you went there the next time.

For any rider worth his salt riding on the Himalayas, if there is one organization they can swear by, it is the Border Roads Organization (BRO). Building the roads is one thing, maintaining and clearing them, quite another.

Yet after every flashflood, after every landslide, after every uprooted tree fall, the BRO gets those JCBs out and clears the road so that we can continue making our journey memorable. In the backdrop of our own highways graduating from potholes to craters, their discipline, diligence and dexterity is really worth receiving President’s Colors.

Developing Bhutan’s roads has been a huge challenge because of the terrain and the rocks. Established in 1961, Project DANTAK has been relentlessly connecting parts of Bhutan by laying down some of the most difficult yet crucial arterial roads in the country. As I slide down the hill of Pangbisa into Bondey and towards Isuna via Shaba, I remember thethe members of the BRO who laid down their lives to construct the road on which my rides are merry.

But it’s not all glum. Right by the Paro River, a little shy of 4 kilometers from the Paro airport, Project DANTAK has opened a wet canteen. It also has a Canteen Stores Department (CSD) for the officers but the canteen is open to Bhutanese and Indians alike.

A plate of hot chhole-bhature and a cup of hot tea right beside a choppy river is absolutely idyllic. There is no grime or grit, there is no shoving or pushing. There is a quietude which ensures a physiological and gastronomic meditative ‘flow state’.

Twelve years ago when I was touring Ladakh, I saw a roadside slogan by BRO’s Project HIMANK which read, “Don’t be a Gama, in the land of the Lama.” Today I comprehend it. Fully.

Brotherhood Manhood All the Way

For those who have experienced biking in a group, you know that feeling of being a part of the tribe. It is an unparalleled bonhomie, a brotherhood - even though sisters are heavily into mainstream biking for a long time now - which somehow strips you of all identities and in your tribe, you’re just a ‘biker’. Having interacted with bikers in India and now in Bhutan, there seems to be a collective consciousness that works across frontiers. The respect, the sharing and the caring is one and the same. One biker had a sticker of a phallus on his helmet which got me curious.

In Bhutan, the phallus is a revered sacred symbol of fertility, good fortune, and protection against evil spirits. Much like every other object of intrigue, once you notice it, you can’t unnotice it.

In Bhutan, phallic symbols are a distinctive part of the country’s cultural and artistic landscape. They can be seen painted on house walls, carved into wood, suspended from rooftops, and displayed in temples across the country. In the village of Sopsokha, this tradition is especially prominent, with homes, restaurants, and shops adorned with large, brightly coloured phallic murals around their doors and windows.

A museum in Thimphu even has a ‘Garden of Phalluses’. All this can be attributed to Lama Drukpa Kunley who believed that you needn’t be celebate in order to be enlightened. In fact, a ride to Punakha would lead you to Chimmi Lakhang where you would find a wooden phallus with a silver handle dubbed as the ‘Lama’s Thunderbolt’.

This reminds me of a time when I had a tryst with Pompeii while reading history. The story of the city destroyed by the aftermath of the eruption had always fascinated me. The novel ‘The Last Days of Pompeii’ had really gripped my younger self. During my deeper digging in something in a magazine had grabbed my attention. A side note said that Pompeii had stone phalluses within the city walls. Pompeii was undoubtedly a male dominated society and the phallus represented power and good luck.

While the urban legend says that if you follow the phalluses, it points to The Lupanar - an extremely popular brothel - historians have debunked this and say that the phalluses were used as a symbol to ward off the evil-eye and bring prosperity. I have never been to Pompeii, nor have I checked out the helmet stickers of the Neapolitan bikers but it is marvellous that two cultures more than 8550 kilometers and 15 centuries apart believe in the same ‘collective consciousness’! Maybe the Neapolitan and the Bhutanese bikers will too.

Some experiences provoke me to compare. Some take me into an inward journey. Some leave me in wonderment, without reason and without a conclusion.

By Srijeet Mukherjee

Editorial

Srijeet Mukherjee is our first contributing author on this September' 26 issue of BRRog. A educational researcher at the Druk Gyalpo Institute, Paro, Bhutan, Srijeet holds a certificate in Public Policy from the Indian School of Public Policy, a Bachelor's degree in English Literature and a Master's Degree in Linguistics from the University of Calcutta. A good friend of the Rodcast, he's contributed a lot more as a listener, with critical insights from time to time which has helped us up our game. BRRog is our blog page. We publish articles from contributors with a penchant for the written word — stories, ideas, observations, provocations and the occasional rabbit hole. If something's been rattling around in your head and you think other riders might enjoy the ride, write to us.