As I approach that gate along the dusty sidewalks of Indore, it brings back distinct memories. I look around sheepishly and just try to vanish into 'oblivion'.
In history; with time ,the motor was introduced.The manual sweating out decreased and man started experiencing bliss in the form of comfortable travelling.
I had moved on from the tricycle, bicycle to the Kinetic Honda.Oh yes, my teenage years saw me wearing a big smile on my face as I rode away to glory. My training started in Indore, as usual under my father who religiously sat pillion and meted out instructions.
(This was the time when I went into those "ignoring you" modes. Believe me, one feels great when the cool wind blows across your face and hair . You are speeding away into the infinite and all you have to do is to press the accelerator.)
Funny, that it sounds so picture perfect.(Of course it would when all the road belongs to you and you are driving at 6 in the morning)
So when, again my father left the vehicle to me and over that( I don't know why he does this to me) he helped my overexcited 4 year old kid brother to the pillion; I knew my fate was sealed so was Gautam's.
History was yet again repeated.But this time round, my grandfather's Kinetic got scarred for life. It would have all gone well had the darn slope not been there. (These slopes have nearly ruined everything. And this time round the story does'nt have a 'happy' ending...it ends in absurdity).
My bike was slipping off and I could do nothing to control it.( I was going against the ramp..ok I want to give it a different name...) After 15 min of frustrated accelerating I finally managed to pull it out on the road after which my brother hopped on.
The brat was so exalted about me driving him around,that he kept on jumping in his seat all along the bumpy road.( No dad around, was already giving me the jitters..he was walking on foot, a good distance behind us)
And yes I gate crashed..literally; thanks to Gautam's fidgeting. He fell and fortunately did'nt get hurt. I fell with the bike and pushed the accelerator . The tilted vehicle pulled me along with renewed vigour and ended its fateful journey by leaving a dent on the wrought iron gates.
All the scandalized people pulled up my howling brother( he did'nt even get as much as a scrape) and all had their glaring eyes upon me( they did'nt even pick me up from under the weight of the vehicle!)
By then my father arrived shouting his head off at me for not pressing the breaks and for putting my brother's life at risk.
( Ok; so where did justice die?! That's what happens when 'daddy' is not there to supervise, when that is his prime job and unnecessary brotherly additions as pillion riders)
I still am not comfortable riding a bike... I have forgotten probably and haven't tried renewing those skills since then. As for now I really enjoy pillion riding.
And the Kinetic? Its back there in Indore wrapped up in a dusty sheet. All this has not only put an end to my glorious bike riding future( I went back to my bicycle) but also tainted my grandfather's reputation.( The gate belonged to the school where my grandfather was the chairman.The talk is still doing the circles)
More to come...