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Spice of life: My slow and steady travel companion for steering joy
My attention would dreamily be drawn to the revolving motion of the front deep-treaded tyre as it went purring along narrow dusty trails and cobbled paths, across fields and over rough grounds, safely negotiating uneven mounds, waterlogged ruts, sudden depressions, and potholes
Riding my bicycle to run errands or to simply head out on a getaway has always warmed the cockles of my heart. The blissful company of the cycle unchains us into working in tandem to the best of our mutual advantage.
While motor-driven speeding vehicles are caught up in a competitive struggle to overtake one another on the beaten track, I sit leisurely on my bicycle to set off at my own pace. Slow and steady can be faster than the fast and finishing last can feel better than being the undisputed first. For upholding the dignity of the self-effacing breed of cyclists, my heart cries foul at smug riders on motorcycles, vain of their horsepower, for they forget their bikes have evolved from the humble bicycle. Therefore, they owe their modern existence to their motor-less and gearless ancestors like the one I own.
In flat conflict with my cycle’s economical price tag, its real worth rockets when it goes zigzagging along tranquil routes, and victoriously rolls past expensive Rolls-Royces, Mercedes, Audis, and their ilk stuck in exhausting traffic jams before passing an eco-friendly smile at their exhausts belching out polluting smoke. Helping me wheel around scot-free from the eyes of hawk-eyed traffic policemen, my bicycle at times playfully eggs me on to jump the signal without caring to get that dreadful challan slip.
Riding the cycle into the sunrise transforms the surroundings into beautiful post-card panorama, worthy of enticing the fitness freak in me to keep pedalling with no destination in mind only to return home at leisure. Ah! The sensation of sweat trickling down the brow can be so gratifying.
My allegiance with bicycles dates back to childhood when I was made to sit astride on a soft towel placed on the crossbar of the bicycle ridden by my paternal uncle. I remember holding its handlebars tightly with my little hands, enjoying the cross-country ride. My attention would dreamily be drawn to the revolving motion of the front deep-treaded tyre as it went purring along narrow dusty trails and cobbled paths, across fields and over rough grounds, safely negotiating uneven mounds, waterlogged ruts, sudden depressions, and potholes.
Graduating from riding lessons on my tricycle to getting a medium-sized bicycle on my birthday became a pleasant reminiscence for it expanded the range and reach of my exploration trips. Today, nothing pleases me more than dropping my niece to school on my modest two-wheeler, which has the matchless ability to cleave its way in and out of never-ending queues of automobiles stuck in traffic during rush hour.
After providing decades of selfless service, the sight of my bicycle resting on its stand or leaning against the wall, claiming little space with minimum maintenance and service cost, evokes a priceless feeling of pride and contentment. I’m glad I chose the cycle over power-driven vehicles as we will continue to roll on into the future, enjoying a pocket-friendly, unassuming, and hassle-free ride.
unsharma3116@gmail.com
The writer is a freelance contributor based in Una.
