Bicycle chronicles

The complex neural networks within my brain do not properly extend and complete the circuit for memories to flow. As retirement has made me happy, lazy and contended, my mind seems to be losing its grip; the process of forgetting things has just hastened up, since turning the retirement age. Surprise, surprise! I can still remember things of the distant past to a minute detail. I don’t know how things work inside the brains’ neural networks; only a neuro-scientist can explain this phenomenon with any degree of accuracy. Apologies, I am rambling on, unconnected to the story I am about to relate!

The other day, I saw a wizened old man riding a rather poorly maintained rusty old bicycle. It was a ‘Raleigh’ cycle and it appeared to be decades old. Memories flooded back to my younger days when I had dreamt of owning a ‘Raleigh’ cycle. That was not to be. I never owned a bicycle with my own money or my father's money.  I learnt cycling with my uncle’s ‘Rallis’ bicycle (though not a ‘Raleigh’ brand in the strict sense, but somewhat nearer I suppose) on the streets of Bengaluru. The streets were deserted back then; it was easy to learn cross-legged cycling, at the beginning. This is a complex way to learn balancing. The first hard lesson I learnt was holding the hand brake lever while simultaneously holding the bar grip. When I slackened the brake lever grip somewhat, the bicycle would veer off- control and knock some pedestrians on the street. Many a few pedestrians have had a lucky break or two, darting here and there during my bicycle learning days. Some of the pedestrians let me off easily without fuss, while some others glared hard at me hard with a few gripes for trying to learn the bicycle on the streets. Falling off of the bicycle innumerable times, I finally graduated to riding half-resting on the bar (the bar connects the seat to the handle). Once I gained mastery over cross legged cycling and bar-riding, the final step was hopping on to the seat and balancing the bicycle. It was an exhilarating experience. The next logical step was balancing the bicycle without holding the handle bars and riding out in style, inviting the harsh scowl of the senior pedestrians!

As I never owned a bicycle, the alternative was renting out a bicycle at the rate of 60 Paisa per hour. The bicycle renter wanted a deposit of Re.1, so that we don’t ride away with the bicycle. Riding out on the rented bicycle and exploring newer roads and neighbourhoods was a very popular pastime, amongst young boys of my era. As my parents invariably did not want me to spend more time outside, I had to sometimes settle for half-an-hour renting of the bicycle (at 30 Paisa only).

However, life has been more than fair to me. One of my uncles gifted me his used ‘Rallis’ bicycle when he himself graduated to owning a Scooter. This gifted bicycle was my pride and joy until I completed my college study and landed my first job. I rode the same bicycle for the first six months (or so) into my new job with my head held high while most of my other colleagues were travelling by local city bus!

Once on a joyride, I was speeding down the street, taking my hands off the handle-grip; the front wheel encountered sand particles on the road and gave away sliding!  I was thrown off the bicycle and landed on my elbow.  It was a serious fracture and that ended my cycling days!