Photographs by Ducati
People often say my ‘job’ is a dream come true — and they’re right. It was mine once, too. The privilege of riding a new motorcycle every week, discovering unfamiliar roads and cultures, and trading thoughts with some of the sharpest minds in the industry — how could that not be anyone’s dream? And yet, somewhere along the way, what once felt unreal began to feel like routine. The excitement hadn’t faded but it had settled into something quieter, like background music you no longer need to turn up to enjoy.
That was, until the invitation to ride the Ducati Panigale V4 S at the Chang International Circuit landed in my inbox. Suddenly, the old feelings came flooding back — the excitement, the impatience, the fear of being too slow, and worse, the terror of crashing a Rs.36.50 lakh engineering marvel. Though I had tested and even raced on tracks before, this was my first time wrestling with a multi-cylinder bike. Thinking about it even now gives me goosebumps and brings a grin to my face — but on the day of the ride, it was nothing but nerves.
The paddocks were a sea of movement — riders bustling, engines firing up, the unmistakable roar of multiple Desmosedici Stradale V4s warming for battle. A streak of cold sweat slid down my spine. Thankfully, this was a DRE (Ducati Riding Experience) Academy session, and we were grouped with instructors who would guide us and make sure we got the full taste of Borgo Panigale’s finest.
Suited up, I walked towards the pitlane, and with every step, the chaos around me faded — until it was just me and the lady in red. My heart skipped a beat. It was my first time seeing the new Panigale V4 S in the flesh, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. She stood there basking in the morning sun, every crimson curve kissed by the light. The Panigale didn’t just look fast — she looked alive. And in that moment, I wasn’t a journalist or a motorcyclist. I was a deeply awestruck admirer.
A firm pat on the back from THE Alessandro Valia snapped me back to my senses. It was time for our first session.
Perched on the 850mm tall seat, I was surprised by how natural the Panigale felt. It was only the ‘warm-up’ session, after all, and we were set to start in Sport mode. Rolling out of the pitlane, I couldn’t help but wonder why it felt so easy to settle in. Was it the narrower 17-litre fuel tank that tucked neatly between my legs? The reworked footpeg placement? The longer, wider seat? It must have been a combination of it all.
Before I could think too much, Turn 3 arrived, and I glanced at the speedo — close to 200kph already. A tap on the brakes, leaning in gently, it didn’t feel like I was riding an unfamiliar machine. I forgot about the 6.9-inch TFT display completely. And as soon as I hit the straight, it was time to go full throttle. Tucked behind the windshield, I caught a glimpse of the speedometer sprinting past 260kph — but wrapped in the aero bubble, it felt strangely calm.
It was only when I broke out of the bubble to brake is when the seriousness of it all struck me — both of the wind and the ferocity of the speed. Trusting the Brembo Hypure brakes, I squeezed hard, adding a touch of rear brake. I felt the rear step out slightly — a moment that could have gone either way — but Ducati’s clever Vehicle Observer had my back. To the rider behind me, it looked dramatic: a puff of smoke from the rear wheel, and then me dragging a knee smoothly through the turn.
From that moment, the confidence only grew. Lap after lap, I pushed harder, and the Panigale simply responded — patient, precise, forgiving when I faltered, rewarding when I got it right. I had never imagined a machine could lift its front wheel with such grace under acceleration. Although I didn’t have the palle to glance at the speed during those moments, I knew I was deep into triple digits.
Soon after, it was time to fine-tune our technique. Valia had been observing us closely and it was clear I needed some tweaks in my body positioning. A quick session on the simulator later — elbows out, chin lower, core engaged — and everything began to fall into place. The following track session proved it: corner speed improved, effort reduced, and everything became just that little bit easier, a little bit faster.
Seeing us getting comfortable, Valia decided to amp things up. Sport mode was out. Race B mode was in. With lesser electronic intervention and an even sharper throttle response, this was the Panigale fully awake — and, surprisingly, it felt even more natural. The pace picked up, mistakes got bigger, but the rewards got sweeter.
As the day progressed, the temperature at the track shot up, and so did the Panigale’s. While we took a breather after every session, there was no break time for the bike. The same set of bikes were used by multiple batches, and despite that, the brakes, the engine or even the tyres showed no signs of giving up.
Though my body was giving all the signs. And now the heat was getting me — both from the track and the bike. In fact, at one point I even wondered if the bike had caught fire, but since the riders around didn’t panic, I assumed I wasn’t going to end up as a well-done steak at the end of Turn 7, and continued to ride.
Shooting out of corners, the Panigale surged ahead with ferocious grace, tyres and tarmac locked in a battle for supremacy — and for once, I wasn’t thinking about lap times, or writing deadlines, or anything else. I was just living the dream I wished for before I started out. And sometimes, dreams come true more than once — as long as you chase them fast enough.
