By- Rabin Prasad Kalita
Still makes me fresh young the reminiscences of my first-time bicycle ride. I saw people ride with a lot of ease, chatting with one another paddling side by side. Thought, how pleasant and fun it would be while cycling all around, with no difficulty. Different techniques while mounting on the cycle saddle elated me.
The most common style I saw is to ascend on the saddle by plunking down one foot on the left paddle and after one or two hops, when the cycle is on move, hurl the other leg encircling behind the seat to reach the next paddle across. The taller one would sit on the saddle standing on the surface itself. The shorter one would stand at a little height to have contact with the other paddle somehow. I was all thrilled to observe each one of them minutely while mounting and dismounting, so that, it could help me spin the wheels effortlessly; when I get a chance to enjoy my ride. Seeing this all, I only dreamt, I wish I had one.
I had been with my dad in his service quarter, whereas the rest of our family stayed in the village. In addition to my studies, I had been helping dad, as he lived by an inert and a faintly sighted pair of eyes. So, I acted akin to a crutch for almost a blind-eyed. He was a senior technician in a thermal power plant at his earlier time. However, later on, he was pitied to work as a telephone operator because of his impaired vision. He was still performing his duties judiciously.
I always heard him advocating about the benefits of riding a bicycle to uphold one’s health and a healthy environment.
Wish, more and more people were cycling today, there would not have been so much of carbon dioxide emission, people would be mentally and physically healthy, and then money would also be saved to a greater extent!
I started learning to ride a tandem quite late when I had just entered my teenage. My unique experience was not alike with all other people of the sphere; learning from their grandpa, dad, or big brother! No! I learned alone stealthily, without even getting to know my dad, lest he would be annoyed at me for using other’s bike.
The service accommodation of Munin uncle was adjacent to our quarter. He had a fairly new bicycle ‘make Raleigh’ to budge around for rectifying electrical complaints made by the dwellers.
More than half a century ago, procuring two-wheelers was limited to a class of elite people. Buying scooters or motorcycles were far more cry in those days for ordinary ones. Hence, dreaming to acquire even a cycle was also not that easy, due to the pauperized standard of living. The majority of the people were habituated to walk to do their routine tasks, except for imperatively needed ones.
Dad neither rode bicycle, nor did he feel like cycling around, though he was a certified terrain jeep driver once. Hence, he didn’t have his own. He loved to stride around the town or preferred to use cycle rickshaws if it was beyond. Nonetheless, I was damn wild about this beautiful mechanical instrument. Sadly, I didn’t possess one. Too often, I was peeking out of the window desolately while our neighbor’s son Mukesh was enjoying his ride zooming ahead and came back again and again. He was blessed enough to enjoy his ride on his big brother’s cycle.
It was cool to chat with Munin uncle. He was an incredible narrator who improvised storylines and made all that appealing. Most of my attention sneaked on his striking bicycle though it seemed I was listening to him placidly. What could I do, I was dying crazy to have that at least for a spin though I was too crude to ride.
Before I would ask him to borrow for a ride, oft I was trying to win his heart by praising his bike.
Respecting my feelings he said, “It is not as simple as it seems Rabin, also you are a bit green to ride at the moment. I’m afraid; that the height of the bike would match with you”!
Besides this, he must have assumed that he never saw me riding a bike, as I didn’t have one. This might have restricted him from assigning an affirmative nod to my request, where height was a secondary issue.
It was not that I left pleading him thereafter. My incessant appeal spiked his compassion repeatedly to pronounce a faded yes one day. Maybe it was like a force win for me, but yes, finally, I won his heart.
Knowing me a rookie, uncle advised me to go along with my playmate Mukesh, a reckless cyclist, who was elder to me by a year and half.
He showed me how to plop down on the saddle by doing himself several times. I observed with absolute amazement, as to how he takes turn and maneuver the bike with confidence. I was asked to give it a try and also he ensured to extend his support by catching and guiding the bike from the back. The urge of my excitement was too much; hence I paused for a split second before I soared on the saddle.
As I tried to balance the bike, he held it from the back for a trouble-free mount. My happiness was in the seventh heaven, and I thought the dream of cycling was going to be fulfilled. Slowly started paddling being more concerned and fear gripped. I was worried about the safe return of the cycle than to my fall. By the time, the bike gained its impetus; Mukesh left his grip without my knowledge and stood immobile; perhaps was looking at me. I was on the road and the bike was gradually galloping ahead zigzag.
Obviously, I was all thrilled, but all of a sudden, I noticed a group of girls approaching right in front of me. My edgy brain forgot to apply the brakes, though they were under my grip. Moreover, I didn’t know how to turn the cycle handlebars except clutching firmly on them. I had only one alternative available with me was to turn left and plunge into the deep ditch alongside the road. Eventually, I did the same exactly to avoid possible trouble.
My tandem remained lying by the side of the road, but I went nose-driven down into the ditch. Thus the perpetuation of my falling history began. I was neck dipped amidst the weeds and stale dirt. Seeing me struggling to come out, one of the onlookers quickly stretched a helping hand to pull me up. Thank God, except a few doted trivial bleeding from my knees, had no major injuries. Later on felt a little sweet pain on my butt as I landed hard on the ground.
Cleaned up the bike and returned to Munin uncle with thanks and requested him to have it once again though the incident crammed me dreaded. Simultaneously conveying my displeasure, I didn’t forget to rat out about Mukesh for leaving me alone on the road, as he was told to guide my riding.
About five decades ago, we the learners were not accessed to a helmet, knee pads, shoulder pads or even stabilizers like the present generation enjoy them while cycling today. So one can easily guess how pathetic the condition would be if someone falls by chance while riding.
That was not the last time I ended up in a trench with my bike, but the tally went added on further. Gradually I could keep my bike upright and had much control over it. Therefore, the charm of my cycling went manifold. I still recall the incident as an awful memory in my life, and it remained fresh like it just happened yesterday.
