Life isn’t always fair, is it? What you’re about to read may sound like unwarranted grumbling, but do humour me as we go along. For the past couple of months, a paragraph from my Aprilia Tuono 457 story has been simmering in the back of my mind’s crowded kitchen. Here’s most of it: “At 175 kg, the Tuono weighs exactly the same as the RS 457! How on earth a naked motorcycle manages to retain all the mass of its faired version is beyond me. But there is a ‘why’ for this: A2 license requirements elsewhere in the world restrict motorcycles to 35 kW (47.6 bhp) and their power-to-weight ratio to 0.2 kW/kg.” But why?!
Sure, if the powers that be deemed it so, we could also see a category based licensing system in India. But since most of our population is far too busy riding triple-seat and helmetless in the wrong lane, both literally and metaphorically, we can safely rule out that scenario on a long-term scale. With that out of the way, I have a question: Why make motorcycles in India for rules applicable elsewhere? If motorcycles can be made with the same or even more power and lesser weight, why not take that route? To sell more motorcycles around the world, of course. That’s just the way it is, and we play the cards we’re dealt, right?
Now consider the ideal situation, one full of actual innovation and machines that live up to their full potential. I’ve long maintained that one of the ideal all-I’d-ever-need motorcycles for me would be one that made 60 bhp and weighed less than 150 kg, and I really do feel it’s now possible to make one in India, if someone so wished. And I take the fact that there isn’t one a bit too personally than I should. Maybe it’s because a set of irrelevant regulations prevents me from having one.
Any given set of rules inherently leads to a level of homogenisation and abandonment of creative imagination. A telescopic front fork, a monoshock, alloy wheels, an ECU that controls every dynamic aspect of the motorcycle, LED lights, a digital instrument console — chances are, I’ve just described your motorcycle. It’s the lack of imagination in the industry that bothers me the most. I bet that if someone were brave enough to throw those A2 rules out of the window, we’d end up with some really special motorcycles that’d fill up a riding lifetime. But that’s not good for business, is it? Instead, we’re supposed to be grateful that your favourite motorcycle manufacturer gives us ride-by-wire throttles.
By design, the A2 rules serve as a stepping stone to higher capacity motorcycles. How endlessly fascinating are motorcycles built to those specifications going to be? How much longer until all 46-bhp/175 kg motorcycles start feeling the same? Thankfully, at least the answer to that last question seems to be a few years away. Perhaps I’m being unnecessarily apprehensive. Or maybe I’m only stating the inevitable. Only time will tell, I suppose. However, as things stand, despite getting to ride some very good Indian-made motorcycles these days, I struggle to accept this strangled compromise dictated by numbers. Why be merely good when we could be great?
