BICYCLE MUSINGS

 

Half pedalling

Owning a bicycle and riding it at sweet will was perhaps the most cherished dream of 1980s kids, especially the boys in our residential colony in Nashik. It wasn’t any different for me. As a kid studying in third grade clad in navy blue and white school uniform, I would watch the high school bhaiyas and didis ride bicycles to school and back home. I would, at times, go the bicycle parking lot behind the school building just to check out brands, kinds and colours of the bicycles parked there in long and disciplined rows. The desire to learn and ride a bicycle was intense, I must admit. My parents – amma and achachan – as I call them, had the resolute view that I was too small a kid to ride or have a bicycle. My craze for riding a bicycle even at a very young age often spilled out when we occasionally visited achachan’s friend Kunjumon uncle whose son Lijo had a tricycle.  We would ride the tricyle all around their courtyard in turns, very often my turn lasting longer. Repeated humble requests and adamant demands for a bicycle fell on deaf ears. There was one Ravi uncle – a distant relative (I have no idea about the ‘distance’ though) – who visited our house once in a while, riding his military green tall Atlas cycle. He perhaps understood me better and was kind enough to allow experimenting with his bicycle. I would push the cycle around the residential buildings through narrow lanes, sometimes assisted by a close friend. With passage of time, I gathered the courage to put a leg across but below the cross bar, holding the left handle while the right arm tightly rolled around the seat. I could rotate the pedal half way, generating a torque just adequate to move the cycle by few metres ahead – this was then called as ‘half-pedalling’ in bicycle mechanics.  It was a matter of great pride. The cycle chain had the habit of occasionally skidding off the toothed pedal wheel, which Ravi uncle would put back into position, greasing his hands black, but with lot of patience. Improvement came in the form of ‘full-pedalling’ in a couple of months later. Gradually, I could get over the cross bar and pedal the machine, but couldn’t sit on the cushioned triangular seat. The seat was perched at a height that was too challenging for my short legs to reach the pedal for a complete rotation. This prompted me to run a few steps pushing the cycle to gain critical momentum and then jump over the cross bar, balancing the fidgety bicycle. Now, this wasn’t a mean achievement, that too when the skill was built up on without the knowledge of amma and achachan at the cost of bruised knees and elbows. The new born confidence assured me that I could now easily ride a shorter bicycle. This time I had a solid case for  owning and riding a bicycle of my own choice. All attempts were made to persuade parents into buying a bicycle for me, but as they stuck on to their intransigent notion, all my demands were turned down firmly. How could parents be so insolent, I thought! Perhaps the very thought of their little kid riding a bicycle along side speeding vehicles on unsafe roads scared amma and achachan. Most of the teen aged boys today enjoy the underserving privilege of receiving costly super bikes from their parents as birthday gifts or for simply passing a school or college examination…..and several of these teenagers end up in hospitals with broken limbs and ruined life in disastrous bike accidents. These pro-liberal parents need to pick some lessons from amma and achachan! But then, as a child, I had different opinion and always felt that parents should be liberal.

 

Summer vacation and the Sin

Summer vacations during early school days in Nashik were spent mostly unplanned. The entire vacation of about one-and-a-half months would be spent playing around with friends the entire day, or on few occasions we would drop a pin at our ancestral village down south in Kerala. Parents left me and my sister – Smita – at our paternal uncle’s house in Deolali Camp for the vacation. The teenage boys played cricket in an open space there while I wished I could also join them. Being ‘very small’ they rarely allowed me in the team. The three cousin sisters wouldn’t gel with my kind of activities there. Days were uneventful as I had nothing much to do there. One day I requested my uncle to get me a bicycle on rent. A strict person by nature, to my surprise, he immediately fetched two rupees from his pocket and offered it to me. “Go! Get a bicycle on rent from the shop near the gate in the evening…” he said. The cycle mechanic’s shop just next to the colony gate would rent out bicycles for Rupees two an hour. As the clock struck four, I ran to the shop and got a short height sky blue bicycle. I would ride it in all possible speeds around the row houses, in open spaces and everywhere except the road outside colony walls. That one hour was full of enthusiasm and joy as I would sweat it out. It became a routine activity for the next ten or fifteen days till we stayed at Deolali Camp for the vacation. The days were now eventful and merrier. Later as school reopened for the next academic session, all the school friends were happy to meet again after a long vacation, though the burden of textbooks and notebooks was almost unbearable. Nishad – a very close friend who shared the desk and bench with me – readily offered me his bicycle for the weekend holiday. As the school closed for the day – a Friday – he gave me the keys of his bicycle – a pretty black and yellow Street Cat. The level of elation that filled my little heart was beyond words. I rode it home over a distance of about four kilometers on the busy Trimbakeshwar Road, cautious of other vehicles and scared of repercussions I might have to face at home. Amma and achachan stood aghast looking at me with the bicycle at the doorstep. Harsh vocabulary in an indignant tone with extreme modulations stuffed the late afternoon atmosphere inside the house. For them, I just survived an extremely risky journey back from school to home. The kind of reprimand and dressing down given to me by achachan and amma in particular made me think whether riding a bicycle was a huge irremissible sin? Things calmed down by evening, even as parents were still confused what they should do with the cycle (I was also equally confused). Catastrophe struck hard when Raghavan uncle – another friend of achachan – dropped in as he passed by our home. Hearing the narrative from my parents he quickly transformed himself into a learned and wise person with his unwarranted sermon to me. “You know that riding a bicycle requires a license…..kind of driving license? Police will arrest and lock you up behind the bars!” He exclaimed as his sermon continued for some time. This was irrational and none of his business! I stood silent as I was certain that any argument with him will be unyielding. Mr. Raghavan couldn’t fool a child studying in seventh grade who grew up watching other children of his age riding bicycle. He crossed the limits when he suggested that the bicycle be returned back immediately. Next morning, me and achachan walked four kilometers to Nishad’s house along with cycle….at times I pushed the cycle where road was narrow and also rode it slowly along the footpath where road was wider. Nishad wasn’t at home while we handed back the cycle to his mother. It was a sad day for me. Today, Nishad is no more.

 

Scouts camp and the approval

Living in a residential colony always had its own advantages with a diversity of neighbours around you, each having their own characteristic behaviour – some too good while others not much appreciable. Two young bachelors and kind souls, Ravi and Sundaran, also from Kerala, joined our colony in the next door. As we got familiar and friendly, they never hesitated to share their metallic blue BSA SLR bicycle with me during evenings. I would ride their bicycle to the nearby shop and also for joy. Around that time, a Scouts camp was held in the school, while I was in the eight class. We had to reach the school ground by 5:30 early morning. City bus service was not available at that time of the day. Uncertain about the result, I requested amma if I could ride our neighbour’s bicycle to school on that day. I assured that another classmate in the neighbourhood Prashant would also accompany me on his bicycle. To my pleasant surprise, yes was the response but with a condition of slow and cautious riding. May be, achachan and amma considered me more grown up and capable of a safe ride, yet falling short of the eligibility to own a bicycle. Having taken the key previous night itself, with a great deal of enthusiasm we rode the bicycle to school early in the morning – Prashant on his brand new red coloured Avon and me on borrowed BSA SLR. The bicycle element added to the  excitement we had at the camp performing various tasks of which cooking and advertising the dishes we cooked were most enjoyed. As the camp ended by evening, we returned back home. Once again, I forwarded the demand for getting a new bicycle to achachan. This time, things were not same. He agreed, but did not specify when he would buy me one. This approval was a music to the ears, something that I had been yearning for years and years. Every day I would discuss with friends different makes and models of bicycles that I would probably be buying in a few days.  The discussion would be repeated at home too though achachan did not respond vocally to the one-sided discussion (or desire that I had). Days transformed into months even as I kept on expecting the grand purchase to happen any time. But as things turned out to be, there was still much more time for my dream to come true.

 

The bicycle race

The annual sports meet was greatest of all events at the school. For me it was rather a festival. I would win quite a few medals, cups and certificates in track events earning significant points for the Violet House team. Usually the sports meet would be conducted in the school ground or the near by Police Training College ground. In 1995, when bicycle race was introduced for the first time, the mega event was conducted in expansive HPT College ground. After having won some medals, the thought of participating in bicycle race seemed to be of much interest for me. My buddy Nikhil Challavar without any second thought offered his bicycle to me for the race. Soon, I was at the starting point mounted on the red and black Hero Ranger, along with other competitors. Get Set Go! All of us pedalled off hurriedly to complete a few laps on the narrow road along perimeter of the ground. One senior guy of the High School had a racing cycle with curved handle, gear and thin tyres. He sped like a lightening. Rest of us, the lesser mortals with ordinary bicycles struggled behind him. After a couple of laps, I felt a sudden jolt and was lying down on the ground, with the cycle. Another competitor had dashed into me after losing control over his cycle. My bruised knee was less painful than the sight of Nikhil’s bicycle with mangled wheels and broken spokes. The fear of asking for money from achachan to repair the cycle loomed large over my head. However, Nikhil being a kind hearted gentleman, asked me to forget it and he would get it repaired. The guilt of causing grave damage to his bicycle did not let me go off for several days.

 

The black beauty

 Achachan took a sudden and unilateral decision of shifting to our village in Kerala and permanently settling down there. As we relocated to Pullad - an inconspicuous yet beautiful village in Pathanamthitta of Kerala – everything and everybody were new to me. Places, weather, people, school, friends were all new. And a new bicycle awaited me there! Going to school involved a two-kilometer road on which public transport wasn’t available at convenience followed by bus travel of four kilometers from Pullad junction to Kozhencherry where my school was located. Parents were now convinced to the core that a bicycle was now inevitable to facilitate my daily travel to school and back. An elderly cousin offered to sell his huge old bicycle to me on second-hand price. I wouldn’t take it lying down. How can a long-cherished dream culminate into a rusted and dull old Raleigh bicycle that’s more preferred by the village elders! Back at home, I vehemently protested the idea of having a second-hand bicycle. Though the protest was met with silence from achachan and amma, I was optimistic of something good very soon. The very next day, Achachan and a cousin took me to the cycle shop – the long awaited moment had arrived. With limited budget in hand, I was more than satisfied with a black and slim bicycle Hero Hansa. The black framed machine was nothing but a piece of beauty for me. The tring – tring bell screwed on the handle and reflectors on the spokes, front and rear mud guard adorned the bicycle. I was proud of my new possession. I would caress the black beauty and meticulously clean off dust and dirt from it everyday.  Initially I would park and lock the cycle in the courtyard of a well known household a little far ahead of Pullad bus stop. Later, I would leave the cycle locked at Ram Wilson’s cycle repair shop or behind Athena Parallel College building that were very close to the bus stop. Amma and aunt would collect fodder grass and leaves for the cows at our homes, a portion of which would be neatly bundled using dry banana tree fibre. They would load the bundle of grass on to the carrier and secure it with coir rope. Hesitant, I would ride home the bicycle loaded with a disproportionately large grass bundle. There was no possibility of any defiance in this matter. We would ride our bicycles, over several kilometers to play cricket matches in different villages during holidays. I loved riding the black beauty to village fairs, river side and new places along with friends and cousins. Early morning and twilight cycle rides in company of friends, with the warm head light powered by a small cycle dynamo remains as vivid as it can be. On some days, I would have cycled more than twenty-five kilometers for fun. Today I know a bunch of people who do cycling to burn calories and get exhausted. We never got exhausted and were never bothered of calories back then. The private bus operators went on a prolonged strike lasting for almost a month. This opened up an opportunity of going to school on bicycle without any objection from achachan and amma. A couple of friends would join me either at Pullad junction or further ahead on the way to school. After the school closed for the day, we would play inter-class cricket matches. Teams from ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth grades would play against one another every day after the school. And, no reasons for any doubt, our team of eleventh grade were dominant and imposing on others always. Being a batsman known for hitting boundaries, I would carry a cricket bat to school hooked on the carrier of my cycle. I remember Aneesh Koshy bowling the slow and deceptive spinners, while Sherin, Joby and Shanley bowled the faster ones. After the matches, we would cycle back home with soiled shirts and trousers, sometimes with a stopover at a bakery to have cold drinks and snacks. Once me and two of my friends decided to go for a movie at Pathanamthitta town, some twenty kilometers away from home. It was the Malayalam super star Mammootty’s movie Vallyettan (Big Brother) and we couldn’t miss it. That night parents were away attending a function at relative’s place. We set off on our bicycles to Anurag Theatre at Pathanamthitta for the evening show. That was also my first movie in a theatre with friends. After two-and-a-half hours of entertainment, we started back home in the night. We merrily sang songs in chorus as we pedalled through the darkness of night. Half the way, a team of Police officials on patrol stopped us and keenly enquired the reason why we were on the road at ten in the night. Frightened we answered all their queries in a trembling voice and showed them the cinema tickets we had carried with us as an evidence of us having any criminal intentions. One among them swung a baton in the air and yelled at us to leave at once and never be seen on the roads at such a time in future. The fear of being caught by the Police powered rest of the journey that we silently completed in a very high speed and shorter time. Never again would we repeat such a foray!

 

College days and ethereal moments

Threesome 
Curtains drew on school life as I completed senior secondary school, it was time to move to Kerala Agricultural University in Thrissur to pursue a bachelor’s degree in forestry. Being far away from home, I had to stay in the College hostel. My bicycle was placed along the wall in my room at home covered with an old bedsheet to prevent dust settling on it. Every time I visited home on holidays, mostly once in a month, I would wash the bicycle, fill air, check for any faults, grease the chain and  go for a long ride. A few months later, a senior friend graduated from the college and he handed over his bicycle to me as he vacated the hostel. It was a red and black Street Cat again. Me and my room mate Babu would share the cycle and sometimes other college mates would also borrow it. We would cycle double seat to shops for buying stationary, cigarettes and other daily use stuff. Evening and late night cycling to roadside eateries were certain on days when the food in hostel mess did not please the taste buds. I would cycle around in the vast University campus trying to identify and document trees and shrubs as a hobby. In the meanwhile, the cycle mechanic Ram Wilson had an evil eye on my bicycle that was lying unutilized back at home.

 He brainwashed my father to sell it to him at a paltry two hundred rupees in my absence. Achachan and Ram Wilson were sure that I won’t part with my first cycle at any cost. And the measly deal was struck. I was shattered to know about this sale when I went home on a weekend. I went to Ram Wilson’s shop to regain my bicycle, but in vain as he had sold it to someone else at a higher price. It was unbearable and I cursed the cycle mechanic for several months. It was in 2001 that I found my lady love Natalya – who happened to be my Forestry classmate. Every evening I would cycle to the University ground to meet her. We would walk throughout the campus discussing various topics, with the cycle handle in one hand and her hand in the other. We three were almost inseparable. Ethereal moments filled those evenings in the University campus. After four years of study, the day to bid adieu to college and hostel arrived. Keeping the custom alive, I handed over the red and black Street Cat to a friend from the junior class. Parting with the bicycle was not so easy, but Natalya stayed forever with me……

 

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