Its not completely true...that I can't ride a bicycle, i mean. When i was around seven, I used zip around the apartment terrace in shiny red cycle. We- my friends and I- used to blow mist into the chilly air as sped along chasing one another, circling around the ventilation ducts. The pride of being the fastest (never mind the oldest :D) is quite heady, let me tell you. Yes, I could ride a bicycle.
Then some know-it-all kid at school popped my bubble. "Riding with safety wheels doesn't count!!!" " Really? Says who?" "Says me and I'm taller!!!" Ok..he had a point. And I had to admit defeat...I couldn't ride a bicycle......yet!
With this new found revelation of my naivete and a couple of bruises (You guessed it...i tried to ride without my extra set of wheels), I asked my cousin to teach me the art in the propah way.
Oh! what fun!!! I would sit on the bicycle and pedal slowly as he gave me stern instructions and a whole lot of encouragement. I would smile loftily at my mum, perched on the verandah seat. And holler at my other cousins who tried to get in the way asking for a turn.
And then he let go. Woooooops! End of fun. I crashed into a lily shrub (Poor shrub!! No more lilies for you) I think I cleared out about half the plants in my grandparents' garden by the end of that summer vacation. Oh and there were scratches, bruises and some more scratches all over me....and sadly, him as well.
Well, all was not in vain for there was vast improvement. I was steadier than before and could drive on our street. I could cycle steadily for about five minutes as long as nothing made me nervous. Like dogs, people in the way, other vehicles in the vicinity or an approaching turn. Thats when I would close my eyes. And then I would either crash into my already bruised and battered cousin or into a street lamp. As he did not pose an electric hazard, I felt my cousin the safer option.
And then he gave up....just like that!!! Without rhyme or reason, threw his bruised purple hands in the air and walked away. Or rather limped away. I crushed his little toe when i was trying to maneuver a tricky turn. Whatever happened to cousinly love?
That was the tragic end of my childhood cycling lessons. The next time I attempted to ride was when I was around 20 and in an expedition to Auroville. Auroville- international city, land of experiments and dreams, mud roads and complete absence of streetlights and signages...It had to be Auroville!
If you haven't been to Auroville, I'll let you know that there is no public transport. You could rent two wheelers and navigate through the dusty spiraling roads. And thats what my friends and I chose to do. All of them opted for mopeds or scooties and I settled for...guess what? A bicycle!!
To my surprise, I managed to ride back to our dorm. I was wobbly but I could ride. The next afternoon we planned a trip to the matr-mandir (the huge sphere at the eye of the spiraling roads). I rode. Wobble, ride, wobble, ride...when something in the way moves, stop the cycle. Its a simple enough process if you get used to it. My confidence rose and on the way back, it was smooth sailing until i lost my balance and drove right into a thorn bush!!! Need I say more?
No more cycles please....I've given it up for the good. Mine and humanity in general!!!
But I am learning to drive!
No comments:
Post a Comment