Motorcycle Diary

But this tendency to do things with my bike—wheelies, endos, can-cans—has been there for as long as I can remember.

The very act, for example, of balancing a 150-kg bike on one wheel and then riding it casually is a challenge. Most people ask me, why motorcycle stunts? I find that a bit silly. There are foodies, travel enthusiasts, art collectors, so why not motorcycle stunts? And it’s not machismo, though a lot of girls do fall for it.

I don’t remember the first wheelie I did, but I know that a guy called Aminbhai from Mumbai had something to do with it. Khan, known as the Wheelie King of Carter Road (in Bandra, Mumbai), was in Pune and I’d gone to watch him pull some stunts.

That guy did mad things with his bike and I was hooked. The man gave me tips, taught me the finer points and soon enough, I rode better on one wheel than two.

By 16, I’d modified my first bike, with just the tool kit that came with it. Word got around and pretty soon the parking lot of our home in Pune was filled with bikes. Everybody wanted me to modify their two-wheelers.

And then, Tony Kordolia, a boy who was never very interested in studies, drifted into Mumbai, did some modelling, door-to-door marketing, T-shirt designing, and passed his time doing bike stunts for stage shows, and even the MTV Roadies.

Bollywood stunt director Allan Amin heard about me from a friend at MTV. In February, just after Dhoom was released, I got a call from him. And I was on. For the first six days of our shoot in north Mumbai, I did nothing but clean, park and generally handle the bikes.

On the seventh day, frustrated, bored and tired, I was standing around with a group of drivers watching the shoot, when a crow shat on me. ‘‘Tera kismet badalne wala hai,’’ said one of the drivers. I yawned.

But in about an hour, Amin came up and asked me to get ready. One of his stuntmen had taken ill and he wanted me to replace him in the shot. The stunt involved a biking leap of about 70 to 80 feet.

You ride the bike, hit a ramp and then get thrown over that distance. And you’ve got to time it all so well that you pull yourself away from the bike as both you and the machine are falling, and land in a pile of cardboard boxes and mattresses.

I got into black jeans, black shirt and a black jacket, carefully listened to Amin’s instructions and just did it. Everything went fine. People clapped and most importantly, Amin’s stuntmen, who always looked at me with a ‘who’s-this-dude’ look, accepted me as one of their own. Today, though I’m still not a full-time stuntman, I’m the youngest member of Amin’s team.

Most people think bike stunts are damn, damn risky. It sure is, but the equipment we have with us is world-class and safety is a priority area.

And all those dudes who do strange things at traffic signals, I have just one request: Don’t do it in traffic, don’t do it during daytime and always wear a helmet.

I’ve just finished work on Rang de Basanti and before that, I worked on a Telugu film, Super, and two more films, the names of which I can’t remember. I mean, with stuntmen, you just go to a shoot, do the needful—like riding off a 150-ft cliff into a river below—and get out.

Sometimes, you don’t even meet the stars, though the guys are extra courteous and discuss details of the shot with you. By the way, I think Aamir Khan is a very intelligent man.

When I first got into films, I thought I’d quit doing bike stunts after some time, but nowadays, I think I’ll hang on to the job for a little longer.

Incidentally, my father knows I work in Bollywood films, but he doesn’t know exactly what it is that I do. One of these days, when he comes back from Iran, I’ll show him some footage of my stunts. He’ll freak out.