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Nearly three decades after the first Indo-Jap venture changed Indian motorcycling for good, we look back at the cult machines that were its ambassadors. Escorts Yamaha RX-100 Where did it come from? From Japan to begin with, but was later made at the Escorts factory up north in India. The RX was one of the four motorcycles that came out of the Indo-Jap ventures, but it was completely unlike the rest of them simply because it was the only one that sold on performance alone. What did it do? It went fast. At the time, very, very fast. The RX was every traffic-light-boy racer’s dream come true. There was 11hp coming out of that small 98cc motor but it felt much more than that. It was enough to make you feel invincible. But then again, unless you pulled up next to an RD 350 at the traffic light you probably were. How did they sell it? Sure the bike was fast, but it was also expensive. So Escorts had to create an aura around it. Which they did with a brilliant ad campaign. Those in their late 30s might just remember a silhouetted RX jumping over a Standard Herald to the Mars Bonfire/Steppenwolf sound track and the print ads had a fighter jock standing next to his “other” flying machine. Should it have sold as much? Certainly. The RX was the unsurmountable performance king with or without competition. And it never broke down. But apart from that, it was the only motorcycle that every single teen wanted to own. What’s even better is, some of them still do. Hero Honda CD100 Where did it come from? The roots on this one are rather legendary. The CD100 got a motor that could be traced back to the legendary Honda Cub. In the eighties, Honda put that motor in a motorcycle body, got into a partnership with Hero Motors and started selling it as the perfect value for money motorcycle. Two decades later, nothing seems to have changed. What did it do? It went a very long way on very little fuel. For just a 97cc frail power plant, the CD was extremely rugged and needed very little attention. In fact it was so fuel efficient; it makes petrol look cheap even today. How did they sell it? A simple credo: Fill it, shut it, forget it. If ever there was a product that was true to its tag line, this was it. Should it have sold as much? Oh yes. While the RXs of this world scored with the desirability factor, it was the CD that people bought to commute on. Then Hero Honda spruced up the way it looked, called it Splendour but spelt it Splendor and bang! We had the world’s largest selling spelling mistake. Royal Enfield Bullet 350 Where did it come from? It came from good ol’blighty. Along with cricket and the railways, the Bullet was yet another gift from the Raj, and for a long time this was all we had to fulfil our two-wheeled fantasies. What did it do? Created a hell of a racket for one, and broke down for another. Oh and it also busted knees with its infamous ‘back-kick.’ But fifty years later, the racket is now a thump, newer ignition means it’s more reliable and the electric starter has broken fewer knees. Apart from that, it also faithfully served the defence and the police forces and does even today. How did they sell it? They didn’t, because the Bullet sold on its own. The forces bought it, and individuals who didn’t want the Czech option of the Java had no choice but to buy it. Should it have sold as much? No way. The Enfield was a symbol of antiquated technology and if the Japanese had given us an equivalent option, the Enfield would have gone the way of the Yezdi. But it didn’t and today people have come around to it. The motorcycle has created a niche for itself and to be fair to the bike, it does offer an experience unlike no other in the country. Bajaj Chetak Where did it come from? From Italy. Named after the famous war horse of Rana Pratap Singh, the Chetak was actually a Vespa that was built to suit Indian conditions. In reality though, it was one of those vehicles that was dumped on us, since we were a ‘developing market.’ What did it do? Gave generations of Indians a thorough lesson in patience. More often than not, the Chetak had such a long waiting list that usually the father booked it and the son took delivery. But once he actually got the scooter, he could ferry everything from children to groceries for very little money. How did they sell it? They didn’t have to. Bajaj collected 500 bucks as a booking amount, sat on your money and then created a fuss if you asked for your scooter. A few years later though they came out with the ‘Hamara Bajaj’ campaign that’s embedded in everyone’s minds. Should it have sold as much? Not a chance. Bajaj completely used the licensing policy to their advantage and left people with no choice but to buy their scooter. Suzuki Shogun Where did it come from? From the land of the rising sun and in collaboration with TVS. The company for Karnataka was in the doldrums in the early Nineties and with the Shogun and its sensible sibling the Samurai (“No problem”, remember that?) this was their second stab at two-wheeled glory. What did it do? It gave an alternative to those who were stuck with the RX for a fast bike option. It also gave us ‘ten’ more ccs and three more horses. And if that sounds little, remember that this was a time when we were still going gaga over stuff like a bikini fairing and an all-black paint job, both of which the Shogun came with. How did they sell it? They called it ‘The Boss’ and had an advert that showed very shaky, sepia tone images of a black Shogun blowing past a chicken truck and reducing it to bunch of feathers. Okay, so the advert wasn’t as bad as it sounds and it actually worked. Should it have sold as much? The tag line for the Shogun advert said, ‘It’s so fast, it’s seldom seen on the road.’ That was true. Ironically though the reason you didn’t see too many was because Suzuki didn’t sell too many. There were a number of reasons for this, sparse dealer network for one, changing times for another, but the Shogun did nothing wrong to deserve this fate.
See also: Geneva Motor Show 2014 Superbike rewind Driven: Mercedes-Benz ML 350 CDI
