4 years ago, I was prodded by my father to buy myself a two-wheeler that would get me from A to B in the safest way possible. His definition of a safe was anything that had a cubic capacity of 50 or less. I was just out of college—young, stupid and wannabe stud muffinnish. Was I going to risk being seen, trotting around in a moped? By girls? By anyone?

Much to his dislike, I showed up at home with a ear to ear grin and a shiny 180 cc Bajaj Pulsar—a bike I’d one day push to 111 on an open road without a helmet.

Today, it’s time to say goodbye. Because the same stupid wannabe stud mufinnish me, wants something bigger, heavier, shinier and most importantly something that gets me from A to ‘C’ without having to dismount with an aching need to massage my bottom! Hello Thunderbird!