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I left Thane at four in the morning, begrudgingly leaving the warmth of my cosy bed, physically awake but mentally still on autopilot. The reason for this rude-ish awakening was a custom build by Ricochet Motorcycles, of which I had been made aware pretty recently. The brief I was given was that it was a beast, created with as much love and dedication as only a few custom motorcycle builders could afford to spare. And with this month being our Mod special issue, what better time than now? I reached the workshop at about seven and saw something glinting from under a grey cover in the morning sunlight like it was sitting there just waiting for me to arrive.

As the cover lifted, I beheld an orange beauty with a configuration that wouldn’t look out of place in a post-apocalyptic world, but still, prettier. What started out life as a simple (yeah, right) KTM 390 Duke had been transformed into a totally mental ride, capable of handling whatever is thrown its way and looking good doing it, too. Devashish Sharma, who runs Ricochet Motorcycles, was standing there beaming with pride as we all beheld ‘Basanti’.

Enveloped in the orange Jagermeister race livery, this rad-looking build featured touches of carbon fibre along the bodywork, a titanium exhaust, and a handmade stainless-steel rear subframe that genuinely looked seamless.

You could say that it was a Frankenstein’s monster of sorts, with an old Hero Honda CD 100 headlight, rear suspension, seat, and front mudguard from a Hero Xpulse, along with many other components, either sourced or built in such a way that it looked like it has always belonged right there on the bike.

Taking a few steps away from the motorcycle to appreciate the build in its entirety, I also noticed stuff like the minimalist-looking indicators, the orange ProTaper handlebar, and the little triangular gap where the subframe mounted to the chassis to show the intricate bracing to maintain rigidity.

There was also the three-piece titanium exhaust that snaked its way through the frame to keep that section looking as neat as possible while still looking outlandish.

As I swung a leg over the tall motorcycle, it felt oddly comfortable, though it didn’t feel exactly like an off-roader, neither a brat nor a scrambler, and maybe not even a dirt tracker. My mind seemed to wander trying to place exactly what it felt like, but I got jolted back to reality as soon as I thumbed the starter, and the 373cc engine roared through the titanium exhaust like a beast looking to break free from its shackles. As I sat there taking in the full effect of the motorcycle, I noticed all the quaint little additions, like the carbon fibre dash with aircraft-style toggles and the Motogadget speedometer.

There was a rawness about the engine that was egging me on to twist the throttle and keep it pinned

The front end looked slightly stubby but jacked with a 120/80 dual-purpose tyre, while the rear was shod with 150/60 rubber. A good setup for some off-road shenanigans that I was supposed to get to doing later anyway. Once I was done taking in every square inch of this machine, I set out with Basanti to conquer whatever terrain came our way. As I left the city and got on the highway, the motorcycle felt almost as nimble as the stock Duke 390, weaving through the slow-moving traffic and leaving it all behind. There was a rawness about the engine that was egging me on to twist the throttle and keep it pinned till I reached Pro Dirt. Not yet, I reminded myself, not yet.

There was a rawness about the engine that was egging me on to twist the throttle and keep it pinned

Once I caught sight of familiar scenery, I could feel a wave of joy, mixed with a tinge of mischief, take over me. It was time. Pro Dirt never looked more welcoming, with patches of slush and an abundance of dirt to kick up. I parked Basanti on a patch of dry land for Kaizad to shoot before our little playdate in the dirt and slush. I waited patiently till he was done, and no sooner had he given me the go-ahead, I was already tearing through the track, corner after corner. I was soon covered in muck, but with a smile so wide that my jaw was starting to hurt.

Basanti was holding up beautifully, except for a little flat spot between 3000 and 4000 rpm, which Devashish accounted to as the need for more fine tuning to get the perfect air and fuel mixture to match the performance upgrades that had been installed. It already felt potent as it was, I couldn’t imagine what a tune-up would unleash upon us. To test the suspension setup, I headed towards the jump, trying to stand up on the footpegs so as to be able to move my weight easily while airborne. That felt slightly odd, to be honest, but I was managing to land it perfectly every time. The rear monoshock from the Xpulse was doing a fantastic job.

I then headed for the waterlogged parts of the track, where the water was knee-deep, knowing very well that the bike should be able to get through easily, as long as I kept some momentum. As luck would have it, the slush turned against me and started to grab the wheels as I was passing through. I had to put my feet down to give it a little push to free myself, but once I was moving again, a little more throttle input got me right out. I looked back sheepishly as Kaizad and the guys had a good laugh at my expense. Basanti didn’t deserve that, so I splashed them on the next run — redemption.

then there are others that deserve to be ridden, because the art is in riding them

Once I was done with the whole off-road section, I parked Basanti on that same patch of dry land, and we all sat and stared at the magnificent sight in front of us. The orange beauty looked even more tantalising covered in mud and slush, dripping wet from our little mud-therapy session. That’s when it hit me. Some motorcycles deserve to be encased in glass and displayed as a work of art, and then there are others that deserve to be ridden, because the art is in riding them the way they were intended for, and nothing less would do it justice.

Basanti is one such build, and to not ride it like this would be like keeping a magnificent beast shackled, and that would just be a shame, I reckon.