My cycle
(based on a true story )
“Papa mala pan cycle paahije.Mi pan cycle var shalela jaanar”
That was me, 9 years old. My Brother had just bought a new cycle (Hero Ranger. Blue and black color).He was going to ride to school on it and I too wanted to do the same. I didn’t even know to balance on one, let alone ride it on the roads. One of my many illogical desires.
This was met of course with derisive laughter. Brother dear laughed too…that was his occupation then- adding insult to my injury. But then Papa took me on his lap, and said,
“Learn to ride first. If you cannot ride, how can you go to school on it?”
Hmmmm, I thought. The man makes a point. Brother was still snickering. First things first, I decided. Tipped over his school bag on the floor.Muhahaha. (Revenge is so sweet.)
But then I forgot about cycle for some time.Er for some years actually. Then I was 12.I saw other kids ride around on their cycles. I wanted one too again.
“Papa mala pan cycle paahije.”
“Learn to ride first.”
“Teach me.”
“Look at your brother. He learnt to ride all by himself! He took no one’s help.”
I cringed. “Omigod! Why didn’t you say so before? Lets call the PM right now and give him the Bravery award!” I wanted to say. But I let it go.
Ok.I had to learn how to ride at all costs.Who could teach me?
Saturday morning. Aai says, “Ill teach you.”
I looked at her skeptically. “YOU know how to ride!?”
“Of course dumbo.I drive the vehicle don’t I?”
Hmmmm, I thought. The woman makes a point.So we stepped out in the morning sun. Her chores left half done. My TV watching left half done. And brother’s old cycle. I used to hate boys cycles.HATE.Stupid horizontal bar. Stupid fat tyres (makes balancing more difficult).Stupid stupid cycles.
“Ill ride. You see.” she said.
Ok…good plan so far.Didnt involve me climbing on stupid cycle.Aai struggled to get on for some time. But she was too short. Her sari not making matters any easier. She gave up soon enough.
“Stupid boy’s cycle.” she said.
“I concur”, I replied.
Back to pavilion. Next stop. Best friend.Gysler.
“Whaaa..? I’m not teaching. Go ride it re.Nothing to it. Call me if u fall. And don’t drop it too many times. You’ll have to pay if anything breaks. Here take the key.”
So there I was, alone with her cycle (BSA Ladybird. Red and copper color.).It seemed not to like me at all. I tried riding, but it was of no use. I used to go a few feet or so and topple. I had no sense of balance at all. I was near crying. Why can’t Papa teach me? Why can’t Aai push? Is brother getting paid to be mean to me? (If so, how much?).Gysler so selfish. Why can’t I do anything right? So I was sitting on cycle and staring at ground and being plain miserable.
Then suddenly, “Haan chalo.Ill push for some distance.Dont look behind. And balance re.You have to think of going straight. Think straight.Dont look down. And go fast. Easier to balance if you go fast.”
Gysler was back. She must’ve seen my pathetic attempts. Yes!! Sympathy. Finally.
“Ok….” I tried to sound scared and unsure.
“Pedal already.” she snapped.
So I pedalled.She pushed and did the old trick of letting go and not telling me.
I cycled for the first time that day. After some time she said to practice turning. And repeated warning of not to break the cycle a lot. I got turning around in next few days.
“Papa mala cycle paahije.”
This was getting repetitive. Papa didn’t even bother to lower the newspaper he was reading this time.
“Yeah.I told you. First learn to cycle. Then we’ll take.” he said.Then came my moment of triumph.
“I know how to ride.” I announced proudly, loudly.
(I think Aai dropped a utensil in the kitchen).
“Oh? Show me then.”
So we went out. And I cycled around. Turned too. WITHOUT putting my feet down. Now that is really difficult. I stopped near him.
“Ok.We’ll go buy some time this week.” he said. He turned and went back into the house.
So on 7th march 1999, I got my cycle. My first cycle.Now I could go wherever I wanted.No more would I beg to be dropped somewhere when going out.I would make my own way, my own road.Funny things happened because of this cycle. I remember the look on Gysu’s face when I cycled for first time that day .She seemed amused. I remember Papa’s beaming face when he saw me cycle around. He didn’t say anything then, but he seemed proud. I cycle to Shailu’s house many times. She takes me dubs; we go full speed down the slopes of Pashan, our hair flying like crazy, eyes watering and laughing like mad girls.
It’s a blue/black BSA Ladybird, by the way. It’s become old now. The basket is broken, paint is coming off, bell is broken too, chain cover refuses to fit, the left brake always rusts for some strange reason, and it rattles like hell over the potholed roads. But I don’t think I would give it up for anything(not even a new vehicle :)).Period.