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.

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