Not your rolling wheels...part I

Lines from " I am the highway".


This is one of my favourite numbers by Audioslave, however it has nothing much to do with this post except for having stirred my imagination to write something remotely related to it. So as I listened to this number pensively, I realized how much I admire the sweet lord for giving us humans; legs.... Yes, because I have learnt to rely only on those, having been through some unfortunate incidents early in my life.


( Though I must say that later when I pondered over them, I was guffawing all over the place)


So it happens that the child learns about the faster means of travelling and I was introduced to my very first tricycle.

I managed pretty well. Ofcourse everything was right about it.( supports et-al) My legs too would touch the ground incase... Nothing much happened around it with the exception of some scrapes and bruises which again was because of my rash driving( It's true, It's true. Children pick up all this wrong stuff at a very tender stage).

Next came the bicycle and I did'nt like it much. I was shedding silent protest tears when my father removed the supports from them.

( And probably I will branch off just a wee bit to tell you that when it comes to" modes of transport" practice sessions with my dad..It is terror unleashed. He however maintains that this grim look makes the children learn.I wonder whether he still thinks that when I execute the crashing sessions)

So the practice arena for the bicycle was ; oh my god; nothing short of the skateboarding ramp.I still remember vividly the road outside our house in south Delhi, so hilly! you could actually fall off the edges. And everything goes fine till my father has an eagle's eye over me. Once he leaves it to me(groan!!)...( this is the last day usually, for all practice sessions).The worst wound of my life( it scarred my knee) was when the bicycle whooshed down the slopes to nearly kill me. My hands and legs flailing in mid-air, it managed to dump me off in a thicket before continuing on its free spirited ride.

As I wiped off the tears pouring down my muddy face, I resolved to conquer that wild spirit.

And so it was done.My final practice session crash made me a pro( humble apologies for my modesty) at cycling.

The story however continues....

Till then

Mallika