Being an avid bike rider, the road has been my sanctuary for most of my life.  I’ve spent over a decade riding through the Himalayas — 30,000 kilometres of pure freedom. Ladakh, Himachal, Uttarakhand — places where the air is thin but the soul feels full. I’ve crossed rivers, battled snowstorms, and taken on the most treacherous mountain trails. I’ve always believed that the tougher the ride, the more alive you feel.

But nothing I’ve faced on the road could prepare me for this. In March 2025, I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML), a fast-progressing and life-threatening form of blood cancer. It hit me like a landslide, with no warning. Just days before, I was lifting weights, prepping for my next ride, feeling invincible. And then, suddenly, I was fighting for my life.

‘I was happy with biking and enjoying life…until the diagnosis shattered everything’

There were no symptoms. No fatigue, no pain, no sense that something was wrong. In fact, I was feeling better than ever as I worked out regularly, slept well, and was eating right. I was even planning an upcoming bike expedition, excited to be back on the road. And then came the diagnosis — clinical, cold, and completely disorienting. I was still catching my breath from the news when chemotherapy started.



But this wasn’t the first time cancer touched my life. Back in 2021, I had been diagnosed with Chronic Myeloid Leukemia (CML). That time, it started with subtle signs: persistent weakness, nausea, dizzy spells. Until then, I had never even been admitted to a hospital. With medication, I recovered. I believed I had left cancer behind but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

‘The body that once took me over mountain passes now trembles on stairs’

The body that once carried me across winding roads, difficult mountain passes and through rain-soaked highways now trembles when I try to climb a single flight of stairs. But when my reflection looks unfamiliar, when my legs feel like they no longer belong to me, I close my eyes and think of the road — the Spiti trail, the switchbacks of Sela Pass, the wind on my face, and the steady thump of my Enfield beneath me.

But when I switch to reality, I get upset watching my mother cry when she sees me that I have become a weaker version of myself. But I know I have the positivity to overcome all this, I want to beat cancer and ride again, not just across India, but on an international biking expedition. Nepal, Bhutan, maybe even the Alps someday. That dream, of saddling up, crossing new borders, and feeling free again, keeps me going.
 

My sister is ready to be my donor, but I need your help to fund the transplant

When doctors said I needed a bone marrow transplant, we were terrified; but my sister turned out to be a match and didn’t hesitate for a second. I’ve ridden through avalanches and storms, but I’ve never seen bravery like hers.


But we don’t have money for the transplant. My father, a retired government employee, has already used up all his savings for me—over 70% of my treatment costs have already come from personal savings. The rest was barely covered by insurance, which is now exhausted. The next step is a bone marrow transplant which could save my life, but it costs ₹20 lakhs and isn’t covered. I am struggling physically, emotionally and financially, and need your help to undergo the transplant and bounce back to life. 

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