One small step for biker boy, one giant leap for a family

At the risk of his masala dosa going limp, Shreyas Hareesh takes more than a moment to acknowledge every two-wheeler performing the arduous task of parking at the Airlines Hotel in Bengaluru on a Sunday morning.

The establishment in the city has long been the setting for a confluence of motorcycle enthusiasts. Once there, seated atop concrete slabs with foam-topped filter coffees in hand, many have entertained visions of being the best rider in the world in the best championship in the world: the MotoGP.

Shreyas’ father - Hareesh Parandhaman - was part of this bikers’ ritual, albeit more casually than most. But unlike others, Hareesh always had his then-six-year-old son riding shot-gun on the Yamaha RD 350’s fuel tank at the hotel’s premises.

Neither is Shreyas’ love for bikes at that age peculiar nor is Hareesh’s dreams of his youngest child becoming a racer.

It is, however, unprecedented that that passion merged with visions of an unconventional future to manifest into undoubtedly the most reassuring MotoGP prospect India has had. Perhaps ever.

You won’t catch Shreyas riding on public roads anytime soon (not until he turns 18), but his super-driving licence allows him to turn heads on the track, and he has done that so far.

Premature as it may seem, the 12-year-old’s early exposure coupled with an uncanny nous for racing and a visceral acuity for speed, puts him ahead of the curve. There’s also a family willing to suspend its plans and ambitions for the foreseeable future to take a young boy’s nascent fascination seriously.

Shreyas became the champion in the inaugural edition of the FIM MiniGP in India to establish his talent and, to no small measure, alleviate some of the effects of the family’s sacrifice.

Soon after, he outpaced riders - some over twice his age - in the MRF FMSCI Indian Motorcycle Racing Championship. Note: The race he won in Chennai was astride an adult-sized bike.

If Hareesh was already confident of his son’s talents before his first official race, he was now convinced.

As the mystery of how Shreyas manages to reach the pedals, let alone handle the weight of an adult bike with his spindly frame, creates an awkward pause in the interaction, Hareesh interjects.

“We have decided to move to Spain next year,” he offers. “We want to give him the best chance of making it to the MotoGP. At this age, if he gets exposure against the best in the world, he has a great chance of making that happen.”

“As a father, I have to do this much for him but frankly, I can’t do it for much longer because this is an expensive sport,” Hareesh adds.

Having quit this high-paying pharma job a few years ago to ensure Shreyas lives out his ‘calling’, Hareesh persuaded his family to put all their eggs in one basket.

The middle-class family from Shakaranagar has managed to get by racing in India with a careful eye on expenditure.

But with Spain on the horizon, no amount of monetary austerity can help. Hareesh reveals that the cost of racing abroad for a year will amount to approximately Rs 1 crore.

So, the plan now is to live out of a camper van in Spain while Shreyas’ mother and older sister stay back in India. The idea is to gain visibility in a country with a rich tradition of racing, thereby improving their chances with sponsors.

Though Shreyas is but a kid - chasing Dobermans, eyeing bikes and bikers with a longing, covered in bruises from falls on the track and at home, he is aware of the sacrifices his family is making and the challenges which lay ahead of him.

He is also conscious of his talent, pausing once to say, ‘I know I am good enough to make it to MotoGP,’ while the small scar on his right eyelid becomes more and more noticeable with every blink.

As the pick-up truck with ‘The Bengaluru Kid’ printed on either side rolls away from Airlines with the father and son chatting away, it becomes painfully obvious how young Shreyas is and how much is at stake.

Should he and his family not figure out the racing formula within the next couple of years, it will not be easy to recover. After all, the sixth-standard student has spent more time on a track than he has in a classroom.