OF COUNTRY CHICKS AND A CHICKEN

A ride into the countryside never gets boring. Just approaching the village on the highway, you sense the fresh air, the hay on the road, the farmer toiling away in the distance, the boys steering old cycle tires and the girls clutching their plaits. As you take in these sights, you have seconds to save the chicken that is crossing the road.
It is no more a joke. It never is a pleasant sight, a dead chicken. The roadkill sure doesn't have any resemblance to those served at KFC. Infact, you might attend the Kumbh Mela to wash off the sin. But that is least of your worries. Right now, you concern is, 'How am I going to explain this sh*t to the farmer?'
The farmer sure is not pleased. You have made the rooster a widower. The rooster will drown his sorrows in toddy liquor and not crow the next morning. Worst, you have snatched away from the farmer the local version of 'The Golden Goose'. His source of eggs, both for himself and The Egg Factory on Kormangala road is now scrambled.
You are negotiating whether a ride on your bike, your digital camera or your Aviators are the trading cards. Soon, the country bums join in and threaten to bash you up into, what else, chicken feed. In this commotion, your eyes, courtesy the male gaze and stare gene, fall upon the farmer's daughter and her friends. You realise why village chicks are known as pure, beautiful, simple and elegant.
But, this is only for a second. The daughter and her friends giggle at your gear and gloves, with that skull on your helmet. You seriously contemplate on one thought 'Man! are those sex surveys on villages true?'. 
Your options are to payup the farmer and beat it, or stay back as a guest, click pictures of the village life and  show the daughter and her girlfriends who's the real "Daddy". And the next morning, you're more faster than Farhan Akhar in Bhaag Milka Bhaag. But, alas! the country bugger and his cronies would not allow option two.
As you bid goodbye to the chicks in your rear view mirror, pop a smile, push the start button and throttle away, all you can say is, "Just another memory on a long distance ride".