Nagpur: The hum of engines cuts through the morning air, but it is not just the sound that turns heads, it is the sight. Women draped in glossy navvari sarees and sporting nath glinting in the sun, others in leather jackets and aviators shielding fierce eyes, glide through the streets on high-end motorcycles. In Nagpur, the rider’s seat is no longer reserved only for men.From festive rallies on Gudi Padwa to long highway rides and city cruises, women bikers are accelerating past stereotypes, rewriting the narrative of mobility and independence with every kilometre they clock. Shraddha Pathak, who has been organising women’s bike rallies in the city for nearly two decades, recalls a time when the idea itself was questioned. “People would ask why women needed to ride bikes at all. We were told we were wasting fuel, that it wasn’t necessary. But we continued, and slowly, mindsets began to change.” What began as a symbolic ride has evolved into a powerful platform. “Earlier, women were mostly limited to scooters. Now they’re confidently riding 500cc bikes, even superbikes — and doing it solo,” Pathak says. For Akansha Navghare, who was a part of a rally organised to mark the International Women’s Day and Gudi Padwa, the dream began in childhood. “I always wanted to ride my father’s Bullet on highways,” she says. Learning to ride around seven to eight years ago, she found unwavering support from her family. “They were proud. That gave me the confidence to keep going.” Today, she sees a visible shift across the city. “More women are riding now, and it makes me happy. If there’s a bike at home, women shouldn’t hesitate—they should just take it out and ride,” she says, adding that group rides and cultural events have only strengthened the sense of community. Radhika Gangakhedkar, 21, began her journey into biking with a simple question — why not me? Watching her male friends ride, she decided to learn driving with a desire to surprise her father and make him feel proud. Initially, fear and hesitation held her back. “It wasn’t just about riding — it was about stepping into a space where I knew people would judge,” she recalls. But with time, both her confidence and the acceptance around her grew. “I don’t chase speed. I ride at a pace where I feel at peace,” says Radhika. While she has faced moments of doubt and safety concerns, she chose to become more aware and prepared rather than step back. For many riders, the journey is deeply personal. Riding for 20-year-old Tisha Kamble began as an emotional connection. “My first bike was my brother’s, which was actually a gift from my late grandfather,” she says. Her first ride around the block, with her father riding pillion, was a mix of fear and excitement. “I kept wondering if I could really do it. But something in me wanted to try.” That hesitation has since transformed into confidence. Today, Tisha rides through the city with ease, embracing the attention that often comes her way. “People do notice. Sometimes it’s surprise, sometimes admiration. But over time, I’ve grown to appreciate it,” she says. For others, the decision to ride stems from a desire for independence. Ruchika Meghe remembers her first ride as a defining moment. “I was scared, but the excitement was stronger. The moment I held the handlebars, I felt a freedom I had never experienced before,” she says. Her experience mirrors a broader shift in public perception. “Earlier, there was doubt. Now, there’s more acceptance — even encouragement. There are still curious looks, but they come with smiles,” says Ruchika. Yet, the road hasn’t been entirely smooth. Safety concerns, unsolicited advice, and initial scepticism remain part of the journey. But riders say these challenges have only strengthened their resolve. “You learn to stay alert, improve your skills, and build confidence. It makes you a better rider, and a stronger person,” says Ruchika.
