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The Rhythm of a Quiet Thump

It’s 6:30 AM in Bangalore. The city is just beginning to stir, the air still carries the hush of early morning, and there’s a kind of golden softness to everything. I strap on my helmet, thumb the starter, and the CB350 RS responds with that now-familiar thump — not loud, not flashy, but full of presence.

There’s something about early rides. No destination pressure, no honking madness. Just me, the open roads, and the quiet companionship of a machine that seems to understand restraint.

Today’s route is a favourite. Easing into Old Madras Road, gliding through the long stretch of Old Airport Road, and then onto that beautiful, tree lined road near the Command Hospital. The bike settles into its rhythm, third gear, 40–50 kmph — everything about the CB350 RS feels like it’s designed for these kinds of rides.

It’s been a month since I brought this bike home. And while we’re still getting to know each other, I’ve already stopped thinking of it as “new.” It fits.

What I Love About It

The refinement. The engine is smooth, responsive, and composed. The clutch? Light as a feather. Suspension? A tad firm, but purposeful. And that gearshift is clicky, precise, no drama. There’s a certain calm to the bike that I didn’t know I needed.

This isn’t my old Ninja 300. I loved that bike, but it was a very different relationship. That was about adrenaline and grunt. The CB is about flow.

Back to the ride

I cruise through MG Road, then down to Church Street, the city slowly waking up around me. It’s peaceful. Familiar. Like revisiting an old playlist on a lazy Sunday. Eventually, I make my way to CMH Road and settle down at Third Wave Coffee. My regular order, a cappuccino. I sit back, the bike parked just outside the glass.

And I realised something, I’ve stopped searching. For once, I’m not looking for the next big upgrade. This bike, this route, this coffee. It all feels right. I’m not trying to reach somewhere anymore. I’m already where I want to be.

A Month With the CB350 RS — Quick Thoughts:

Today’s ride also marked a quiet farewell. The Rynox gloves I wore, the same ones that shielded my palms for a long time, accompanied me for one final spin. They’ve been through a lot with me, and phasing them out feels a little like saying goodbye to an old friend. My new ViaTerra gloves are ready, but that piece of gear will always remind me of resilience, recovery, and the ride back to confidence. I’ll ride again coming weekends. Maybe with my wife and a camera. But definitely with the same quiet thump that has started to feel like me.

Because sometimes, you don’t need to go fast. You just need to go.

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