This month’s column, dear reader, is a bit of a sentimental walk down memory lane — an ode to one of my dearest travel companions. We recently parted ways, and it only seemed right to pen down a little something as a toast to the good times we had shared.

We met for the first time on a rainy August evening in the suburbs of Mumbai. At that time, I spent my days cooped up in a cubicle surrounded by hundreds of other corporate lawyers. I worked long hours and tuned out most of my personal interests. My life had become much like the city’s skyscrapers — it looked great from the outside but there was almost nothing unique or original within.

I needed a change. I had to find something that would add a spark to my otherwise monotonous existence.

It all clicked when I saw this motorcycle. The missing piece of the puzzle had been found. That month’s salary zoomed in and out of my bank account with equal haste. The deal was closed, and I brought the motorcycle home. I named her Faith, as a testament to the joy I experienced when I was on two wheels. It was the highlight of every day.

I bought the bike to serve as a daily commuter, but Faith had other plans for us. Exactly one year later, I quit my job, packed up my house, and set off on my first real motorcycling adventure. That couldn’t have been a coincidence right? It was clearly meant to be!

Over the years that followed, we travelled over 80,000 kilometers together, crisscrossing the length and breadth of India and Nepal. We tackled some of the most treacherous routes in the Himalayas and cruised through the winding hills of Kerala. We spent four months, lost in the enchanting landscapes of northeast India. We rode to the Rann of Kutch in the middle of the monsoon and across the deserts of Rajasthan in the peak of summer.

No place was too far, and no adventure too ambitious.

Faith quickly became more than just a motorcycle to me. She was a character in my expeditions — steadfast on some days and prone to drama on others. She seemed to particularly enjoy throwing a curveball my way every now and then. Being stranded in inconvenient places was not uncommon, and I’ve even had to deal with the travails of a disintegrating motorcycle while riding at over 15,000 feet. The misadventures were always the most difficult aspect of our partnership, but those too were dealt with together.

For purely sentimental reasons, I continued to hang onto this motorcycle, even as newer ones were added to my garage. Until I recently realised that it was almost selfish to leave such a special machine lying idle. If someone had never sold her to me all those years ago, my life would have probably turned out quite differently. It was now my turn to pass on the baton. All I’m keeping is the immense love and sense of gratitude that I have for my trusted partner that always ensured that we kept the faith.