"You have two kids, right,'she shouted at me from downstairs, hair and pink T-shirt billowing in the stiff breeze." No! I Have one". I shouted back from the first floor balcony. "Whose bike is it in your garage then?"She countered back. I sighed and braced; for the umpteenth time; for another round of ridicule. "It is mine."Quickly erupting into the familiar fit of giggles, she whispered , "But it is a kids' bike!"
I took a deep breath and launched on a full scale explanation, gesticulating wildly, like a theatre actor of yore, from the first floor balcony, toddlers squirming on both our hips,craving attention.
It started two months ago. My new born turned four months and my maternity leave plus furlough was fast dwindling. I faced uncertain future, so far as my method of commuting to the workplace was concerned.My sweet husband and I used to drag the newly bought, unused scooter, to the lonely hillock behind abandoned hangars(I insisted on total privacy), where every attempt of mine, at taming the metal beast, would end in him calling me' stupid cow' and me dissolving into tears. Sullen faced we returned every nightfall, avoiding each other. The two-wheeler remained untamed. Time was slipping by faster.
It was then, that my ever thoughtful husband, had a brainwave at the breakfast table.Toast in hand, in between mouthfuls, he declared"We'll buy you a kids' bike"!!The support wheels wont let you fall off and you wont need me ." He declared with a finality. The shining new , red and yellow contraption, with tweety stickers on the side was bought.As my relieved better half pointed out triumphantly"the ball was in my court now', or rather'the baby bike was in the garage".
I was on my own. No swearing, cursing and crying. I only had myself to curse and swear at.
The shame of it was so intense that for the first two weeks or so I rode the bike on the terrace, in the balcony.Driving the people living downstairs insane.The deed was done in the wee hours of the morning, around 4a.m, adding insult to injury.
Enough courage was gathered during this time, and I timidly ventured out on the road.As my ever optimistic husband pointed out" after all you have to drive on the road, dont you?"
My downstair neighbours heaved a sigh of relief. The time I chose was around 8.30 a.m. , when most of the office goers from the colony, had departed for the day.The rubber tyres scrunched on the gravel as I went on my slow tour of the neighbourhood.As one of my honest friends summed it up 'We felt sorry for the small bike". Needless to mention, I had not yet lost my post pregnanacy weight.
This carried on for a couple of weeks, till my vigilant better half decided to remove the support wheels. Then falls, bruises and cuts became the norm.Stumbling and tumbling my way through the macadam, I had almost given up when a miracle happened.
The maids' daughter came a- visiting from the village. She rode a proper -sized adult bicycle meant for ladies(minus the front rod). Upon some coaxing, I climbed up the perch, which to me, seemed way too high.My kind maid(God bless her) held the carrier behind, steadying me, while I warily pedalled, surging ahead, way too fast . It was drizzling and I was still dressed in my night clothes. To ease tensions, we began talking about the weather. After a while, she stopped answering me. I turned back , and saw to my horror, she waving me merrily on, standing few metres away. I was on my own!! I was actually riding a bicycle without falling off!!
I remember the brand(Hero-Miss India) of the bicycle, the colour(faded purple) and that I said every single prayer, to every God, I could recall in all the religions I had heard of. The entire hindu pantheon and all the gurus had been invoked and beseeched, by the time I finished the entire colony perimeter. The real reason for having carried on ahead was my percieved inability to alight from such a lofty perch, without assistance.
But it had been proved, beyond doubt,that I could ride a bicycle. I raced ahead upstairs, rang up my better half, to give him the good news, bang in the middle of a surgery(while he, gloved hand and masked , patiently heard me out)
The journey from the bicycle to a two wheeler was swift, and at the end of a week, I could safely commute to my workplace and back; in a matter of minutes. I am full of gratitude to my better half, my maid, and sundry friends who would stop to give friendly advice while I was still tottering.
I took a deep breath and launched on a full scale explanation, gesticulating wildly, like a theatre actor of yore, from the first floor balcony, toddlers squirming on both our hips,craving attention.
It started two months ago. My new born turned four months and my maternity leave plus furlough was fast dwindling. I faced uncertain future, so far as my method of commuting to the workplace was concerned.My sweet husband and I used to drag the newly bought, unused scooter, to the lonely hillock behind abandoned hangars(I insisted on total privacy), where every attempt of mine, at taming the metal beast, would end in him calling me' stupid cow' and me dissolving into tears. Sullen faced we returned every nightfall, avoiding each other. The two-wheeler remained untamed. Time was slipping by faster.
It was then, that my ever thoughtful husband, had a brainwave at the breakfast table.Toast in hand, in between mouthfuls, he declared"We'll buy you a kids' bike"!!The support wheels wont let you fall off and you wont need me ." He declared with a finality. The shining new , red and yellow contraption, with tweety stickers on the side was bought.As my relieved better half pointed out triumphantly"the ball was in my court now', or rather'the baby bike was in the garage".
I was on my own. No swearing, cursing and crying. I only had myself to curse and swear at.
The shame of it was so intense that for the first two weeks or so I rode the bike on the terrace, in the balcony.Driving the people living downstairs insane.The deed was done in the wee hours of the morning, around 4a.m, adding insult to injury.
Enough courage was gathered during this time, and I timidly ventured out on the road.As my ever optimistic husband pointed out" after all you have to drive on the road, dont you?"
My downstair neighbours heaved a sigh of relief. The time I chose was around 8.30 a.m. , when most of the office goers from the colony, had departed for the day.The rubber tyres scrunched on the gravel as I went on my slow tour of the neighbourhood.As one of my honest friends summed it up 'We felt sorry for the small bike". Needless to mention, I had not yet lost my post pregnanacy weight.
This carried on for a couple of weeks, till my vigilant better half decided to remove the support wheels. Then falls, bruises and cuts became the norm.Stumbling and tumbling my way through the macadam, I had almost given up when a miracle happened.
The maids' daughter came a- visiting from the village. She rode a proper -sized adult bicycle meant for ladies(minus the front rod). Upon some coaxing, I climbed up the perch, which to me, seemed way too high.My kind maid(God bless her) held the carrier behind, steadying me, while I warily pedalled, surging ahead, way too fast . It was drizzling and I was still dressed in my night clothes. To ease tensions, we began talking about the weather. After a while, she stopped answering me. I turned back , and saw to my horror, she waving me merrily on, standing few metres away. I was on my own!! I was actually riding a bicycle without falling off!!
I remember the brand(Hero-Miss India) of the bicycle, the colour(faded purple) and that I said every single prayer, to every God, I could recall in all the religions I had heard of. The entire hindu pantheon and all the gurus had been invoked and beseeched, by the time I finished the entire colony perimeter. The real reason for having carried on ahead was my percieved inability to alight from such a lofty perch, without assistance.
But it had been proved, beyond doubt,that I could ride a bicycle. I raced ahead upstairs, rang up my better half, to give him the good news, bang in the middle of a surgery(while he, gloved hand and masked , patiently heard me out)
The journey from the bicycle to a two wheeler was swift, and at the end of a week, I could safely commute to my workplace and back; in a matter of minutes. I am full of gratitude to my better half, my maid, and sundry friends who would stop to give friendly advice while I was still tottering.
The effort was entirely yours and worth saluting.........may you be able to show such courage ,conviction and single minded focus in the years to come! God bless
ReplyDeleteHilarious Pam. This made a grt morning read. Waiting for more such anecdotes
ReplyDeleteThanks smith, god willing , i will
ReplyDeleteby the way' the honest friend' who felt sorry for the bike was none other than our Jolly Alex
ReplyDeletetotally hilarious, one blog that i couldnt resist respond. I could visulalize you on top of that poor bike, had it had a life, it would have ran away seeing you coming closer to it!!
ReplyDeleteThanks bins:)
ReplyDelete