Sunday, May 08, 2011
The Dusty Old Haunted Bike
“Waah! It’s
awesome dad. I love it”, I exclaimed.
“Let’s start
practicing from tomorrow ok?”
“Yes”, I
sounded excited.
It was
during my graduation days that my dad bought me a brand new bike. Of course I
was not excited. It means I can’t travel in autos and buses. I am basically an
indoor kind of person. But I was happy as all the new things were first tested
by my sister and brother. Within weeks they learnt the bike and it was my turn
to hop on.
Thanks to
the Indian government it took me two weeks to get the learning licence. If you are
in Hyderabad and want to start new relationships, a business, play games or learn
driving a vehicle you land up at Necklace road. My father took me to a large
parking place which in morning, was used by kids to play cricket and driving learners
like me.
There were
quite a few who came to learn two-wheelers though. There where women who were
in their late thirties and some girls about my age. Even when you don’t know
them in person sometimes you enjoy their company even in difficult situations.
My father
was precise about the instructions. He first told me what is used to stop and
start the vehicle. You might find it stupid but the last vehicle I piloted was
my tricycle on my eighth birthday.
My first day
was great. I learnt how to balance the vehicle and was able to ride without my
dad’s help. It took me two weeks to perfectly take U-turns, and it was time for
my sister to take the charge from my dad.
It was a very
pleasant morning. My sister drove till, now called, “practice spot”. She took
her usual seat near a tree and watched me ride the bike. I took
several turns as my driving test was within a couple of weeks. I wanted to ask
my sister about my performance so I stopped my bike on a slope and searched for
her with my eyes.
“Hey! Where
did you go?” I asked when I spotted her.
“Oye.Hold
the break....WATCH OUT!!”
BHOOM! BAM!
~~Half an
hour later~~
“How did you
do it?” dad asked in disbelief.
“Awesome!
You girls are geniuses. You hit a car which was already parked.WOW!” my brother
keyed up.
“I didn’t even
start paying the EMI yet!” mom added in worrisome.
“Chill mom it’s
still in one piece”, I tried to cheer her up.
“Oh! I
should be glad. Did anything happen to the car you hit. Was the driver angry?”
mom asked in a cynical flavour.
“Mom relax.
He wasn’t even there. Besides you should be proud that she learnt to take a
U-turn now”, my sister added cheerfully.
“And we did write
dad’s phone number on the cars window. So he might call you for the bill dad”,
I added dimly. Well, we are quite honest people. Alright, I did get that idea
from a commercial advertisement. But I ran away only to come back later.
Three years
have passed, I thought, as I stood in an overcrowded public transport. The bike
lay untouched after that incident. None of my family members found time to ride
it. It stood in the garage, now old and covered with dust. The birds had built
their nest and are living happily.
I once told my bike, “I am sorry Mr. Bike. I always dreamed off riding
on you and find my prince.” I didn’t expect a reply, but I felt it roared ,“Thanks to you I am still in one piece.
Ride on me again and I will kill you! “.
