Ever since I was eight years old and I saw the Hindi movie Dhoom 2, I have wanted to ride a motorcycle. The slick leather jackets, the anonymity of the full-face helmet, and the totally badass appearance of a shiny new bike all appealed to me. It didn’t even occur to me that most people have a very negative perception of motorcyclists: they are assumed to be men in motorcycle gangs who drink beer every night. But this didn’t deter me from doing something I really wanted to do. My dream came true about nine years later when I got my motorcycle license the summer before senior year of high school.
I’ll admit, as excited as I was to hop on a bike, my heart was beating extremely fast because I thought I would fall over and die. Spoiler alert: that didn’t happen. After getting my license, my parents surprised me with a brand new red motorcycle, which I had the pleasure of riding to school for the last month of high school. I can say with confidence that I definitely turned heads, both on the street and in the parking lot – especially after I took the helmet off and people saw it was a girl on the flashy sports bike.
My motorcycle means more to me than just a way to get around; it’s a statement of daring to be different. Every teenager dreams of having their parents gift them a car on their 17th birthday, and I eventually started to conform to that desire too. However, when my parents surprised me with my Honda CBR, I was much happier than I would have been upon receiving a new car. My dad told me never to admit this, but I actually fell three times within the first two weeks of riding my new motorcycle, which is supposed to be really embarrassing. I was scared of riding for a few months because I was terrified of falling again, but after practicing for a couple weeks, it was second nature to me. This goes to show that we can’t let failure slow us down. A few bumps and bruises are guaranteed when trying something new.
I love my motorcycle because just by riding it, I am discrediting the stereotype of a reserved woman. It is a way to promote female empowerment and criticize the act of stereotyping in general. (I don't have a subtle moped either – I own a sports bike because I think it looks ten times hotter). On the night of February 25, I got to watch Penn Masala perform at NYU. The a capella group was comprised of all South Asian males, except for one caucasian gentleman. It was unique and refreshing to see someone trying something different, especially when he sang in Hindi for his solo.
As a girl who rides a motorcycle, I can confidently say I have learned a lot in the past year and a half of having my bike. It is important to be passionate about something, even if it doesn’t seem like something “normal.” Never be afraid to defy the odds, because people will definitely respect you for it.
