I remember the day when my father brought a new bicycle as a present on my 8th birthday. It was a shocker for me as I didn't expect it at all. At first glance, it looked so stunning! Its marvelous design made me literally go berserk! My happiness had no limit until my sister surreptitiously apprised me of the situation. That apparent expensive gift was an inkling of why he was working day and night at the factory and why we were barely able to see him at home for last 2-3 months. The burden of resurrecting our shabby house, worsened by the incessant rain, was already killing all of us. We were already living an abstemious life. And now this bicycle... I knew it would surely add insult to an injury. It would make the situation a bit worse and coerce mom to add a few more items to the very refrain-list. And the way she marched inside with long strides, happening of such seemed imminent to me.
My pensive sadness, however,
brought a slight concern on my father’s face. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of expression
that he was really looking for. After all, after such a long time, we brought
something new to our house. It was a moment of joy and worth celebrating wasn’t
it? And yet I told him not to. How could I weigh my happiness over that of my family?
How could I go against what my father taught me? Like father, like son, ah! To his
dismay and for my family’s greater good, I rejected the offering and asked him
to return the gift. And yet, his heart, with a tinge of affection, pounded
heavily after witnessing such a sacrificial deed of his child. But still, just
like every other time, this time too, he convinced me to keep the bicycle with
me.
While I was parking my bicycle at
the front yard, to everyone’s surprise, mom brought sugar for all of us to complement
the celebration - After all, sugar was the only sweet thing we could afford
during those days! I presumed she must have gone inside to serve the sweet to
the almighty first before giving it to us. That was so cultured of her! If mom
serving first to the almighty was an instance of what Indian culture is all
about, then how could father lag behind! We all have been taught by our parents
that before entering into the house - wash your legs. It seemed as if father used
to adhere to such one of the good manners wholeheartedly. Before entering into
the house, he went down to the well, pulled out a bucket of water and washed
his legs – legs that were filthy enough because of the dust particles and chemicals
dispersed in the factory wherein he was working. He asked Mom then for a towel.
While she was bringing it from inside, father told me that he would take me
across the street tomorrow first in the morning and teach me how to ride a bicycle.
Might be, he was planning to take off the next day after such a strenuous
period of 2-3 months. A well-earned one day vacation I would say!
The next day, he woke me up and
took me across the street. The thought of father teaching me how to ride the
bicycle made me so happy. I was literally on cloud nine. He started giving me
all those tips and suggestions that every novice rider has to listen to his master.
After paying heed to his lessons, he asked me to take a shot now. Finally the
moment came which I was dreaming last night, I started riding it!
The reckless in my riding was
quite obvious. The intended stoppages and unwanted fumbles were truly corroborating
it. And it was a matter of only a few seconds for me to fall off the bicycle
before careening it around each and every corner of the road.
‘That is just a start. You have
to practice a lot.’ That’s what father told me. However, while taking a second
attempt, he aided me in maintaining the balance. He kept his one hand on one side
of the handle while his other hand was around my shoulder. No doubt why I was feeling
comfortable and confident now! After all, my father was backing me up.
‘The third time is the charm' –
that is what they say. I was able to ride it on my own this time. Yes, it
wasn’t that smooth, but it was better than ever. And as they say – ‘Experience
makes man perfect' - I mastered riding bicycle, like a champion, in less than a
week. And out of curiosity, I did propagate it like anything all over the
society. I felt so accomplished! My friends too were quite ecstatic after hearing
it. But still, while sailing through such happy moments, how could I forget my beloved
father. After all, he was the sole reason behind such a lovely journey. To
everyone’s ears, I did mention why my father deserved a lion’s share for my accomplishment.
It has already been more than
30 years now. The memory is still young, even when that bicycle is replaced
with a luxurious car. In fact, it’s hard to get him and that first-time-bicycle-riding
incident out of my mind, even when he is no more. But I do miss him every now
and then, specially at this juncture when I have got everything….
everything except him.
-- THE END --
10 Comments
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