Bicycle

Bicycle

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My first encounter with him was when I was 6 years old; he was way bigger than me and was filled with as much arrogance as his size. He just wouldn’t listen to me, I tell him to go straight he would go left, I tell him to go left he would go right. My father taught my eldest cousin brother Nithin and he taught the younger people- my sister, my cousin sisters, my cousin brothers; until he reached me the youngest in the family. He put a lot of effort to try to teach me to bring down Mr. Bicycle’s arrogance, to bring him to control. But he with his mocking tone and high and mighty air around him could not be broken into pieces.

In the summer of my primary school my brother began the fruitless effort of teaching me and stopped after a month. He would have continued if it wasn’t for the near death experience where he broke his arm and had to immobilize his limb. He did try but to sneak me and cycle out but his mom caught him and put him to bed rest. I was, speaking the truth, a little pleased inside; he was a very patient teacher but I just couldn’t get it and I was sure I wouldn’t learn it even if I had mercilessly dragged my body around day and night the entire year.

His broken limb happened on a hot sunny afternoon. Like the other days he had taken me after lunch and was on the process of teaching me to learn. There is a 3’o clock bus that comes through this road and immersed in me he had forgotten about the bus and did not realize the time that had passed. I on the other remained the same I was as on the first day.

The road was very narrow that no one can even walk on that road while the bus is passing. The bus is like a crazy wild bull on loose. It goes through that road like the Knight bus in Harry Potter, expecting everything to move from its place magically and when it presses the brake at the end of the narrow road, no one would be surprised if someone falls out of the window. But it’s the only bus through that route and people had no choice but to board the bus, hoping and praying to live through the journey and actually they were quite used to it. The passengers stand in a neat row of two stuffed one behind the other and move according to the rule of inertia. Well the people are well educated and know to use physics in practical life. But the people on the road wished to live they better move out of the way by stepping into the porch of their neighbour. The driver’s had that horse like thingy attached to him and would not see anything below a straight eye position which he holds while he is sitting on the driving seat.

Anyways it was too late by the time my brother realized the bus was coming at us, being seven years older than me, he was stronger. He lifted the bicycle and threw me and Mr. Arrogant into the porch of the nearest neighbour’s house. He himself tried to jump into the porch but beings tired of pushing me around couldn’t gain enough energy to cover the distance and hence fell into the gutter and broke his arm trying to defend the fall. It did not have to jump actually as the bus had pressed the brake when it saw a girl on a flying bicycle in the sky, which had at last reached the line of sight of the bus driver. For once and the first time he actually landed on his tyres and rode of a bit by which time I was able to dive of him into some stand in the porch therefore decreasing the pain of my fall.

I only had a few scratches, while my brother was not so lucky, he was sort of collected in pieces by the passengers and the neighbours who had come out running hearing the commotion and I think one actually fell or jumped out of the window to help my brother. He had lost consciousness probably because of the pain or maybe out of fright of seeing the bus bonnet so close to his face. We were rushed off to the hospital in the bus and hence my ended my journey on the bicycle.

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About Menagerie

basically reads a bit, likes to write, eat menageries: more diverse in thoughts rather than in people or things and the first meaning of captivating animals for exhibition has nothing to do with me
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