OF PEDALS AND BRAKES...

As I had already mentioned in one of my previous posts , I once got 3rd rank (and Varun got Second Rank.. Only one rank behind Varun...!(and I remember only one mark behind him..!) Wow! what an achievement!!) while I was at 3rd class at School.I look back at this 'Incident' often because it has had and it continues to have a very very significant impact on my life.Exactly one year back, when I was in complete mess with nil ego and negative self worth, I became a 'scavenger' who was searching for confidence of some kind from somewhere and this one (infact only) incident said to me I had once been among the top 5 in a class of 35 (i.e within 15 %) and I still can. This also said to me , If the pass percentage of CA final becomes 15 , I would pass. This hypothesis of mine may sound absolutely stupid to some.However it is not so. You must at some point of time in your life been devoid of self worth to understand this.

I also believe it is always very easy to say that "I will prove him wrong.." or "I will show them what I am made of" and proving to others is according to me is also very easy. I will tell you what is agony and misery. It is saying "Aiyo.. I have to prove it to myself..".. I have been through this.I know the pain. Hence the feeling that I once been among the top 5 in class gave me the soothing effect.

I 'showed what I am made of' to my father(I had promised that I would get into top 3) and hence he got me a BSA-Champ (as he promised) and I insisted it had to be without the support wheels on the side.Half of him wanted me to have this cycle and half of him did not.The hardest part of raising a child is teaching them to ride bicycles. A rickety child on a bicycle for the first time needs both support and freedom. The awareness that this is what the child will always need can knock them hard.(Sometimes , ironic it may sound 'I too feel proud' about what I write, the previous two sentences are such lines.)
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I rode this cycle only within my street. I put upon myself a self imposed boundary. I would not even cross the road.For 'To' I was keeping left. For 'Fro' I was keeping right. However after one and a half years , I grew up and so did my audacity. And for the first time I crossed the road and I was properly keeping left. And only when I did try to cross back again I came as an obstacle to this speeding motorcyclist who in order to not hit me put his front brakes and ceased the motion of the vehicle. However a newtons law(I dont know which) of motion started working and he flew above me and broke not his crown but his helmet alone and I ran after (to my home).

After my parents mitigated for his damages by giving him some money.I was banned to bicycle. That was it. The end of BSA Champ. The champ had become junk. The champ I referred was myself.
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I was in 8th Class and my father decided to buy me a bicycle so that I was no more 'dependent'on my ever punctual School Bus and 'Benjamin'- The rash and arrogant Bus Driver.I was also in a way missing 'Bhakthavatsalam' - The sedate and signal obeying Bus Driver. He had been demoted that year. The school's population had reached something similar to 'Stage 2 of the Demographic Transition' and hence more and more parents depended on our school's own transport to 'pick up and drop' their children.The school authorities to cope with the rush leased a second hand van which 'Bhakthavatsalam' had to drive.
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My parents for once felt I needed to be independent.They said I had to go alone to shops. I had to go alone to a saloon.When they are late , I had to stay back alone at home. They said I had to become responsible..(A Refrain I have been hearing for a long long time).. However.. For all this to happen.. I Said .. First.. I have to have my own bicycle..(or else how will I go to shops and saloon alone depending again on the 'Pallavan'..)
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So.. Myself and my father went to this very famous cycle shop at Broadway(quite contrary to its narrow lane) to buy a Bicycle.. I had already made up my mind to buy the 'geared' cycle.The fascination with gears had started that early.I wanted blue colour but the shop had inventory of only grey colour.However at the joy of getting a cycle, I ignored the choice of colour.
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And so from 'Broadway' to 'Mylapore' began my first journey in my brand new Hercules 'Top Gear'. As the name suggests it was a very 'herculean' task for me to ride the cycle.First, I felt I did not have total control of my cycle as my leg did not reach the ground while I sat on it and secondly the front brakes constantly rubbed against the front wheel as I rode.This is frustrating.
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The effort I was putting to pedal did not quite get me the speed that it deserved.When 'efforts' do not yield the 'deserved results' and when there is something else that is stopping the momentum , all that crops up is disappointment , anger , frustration , irritation and not to mention hot tears .When I look back at this journey from 'Broadway to Mylapore' today , a question that arises in my mind is whether efforts are directly proportional to results ?. And I stand (after having fallen twice) before you today bringing an important truth that sometimes efforts are not directly proportional to results. It is certainly not inversely proportional too. The correlation between efforts and results is certainly not '1'.There is something else.
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Some people call it luck. Some call it divine intervention. I dont know. From a firm believer in luck , I have now began saying 'Luck is cruel. It attaches itself to people who do not depend on it'.
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I think the year I got that bicycle was 2000.'Broadway' to 'Mylapore' seemed eternity.Even more so with those non aligned wheel. So, as I rode I was immersed in futuristic thoughts .I had written an essay in school. It was like , I had solved the Y2K problem and I was rewarded.The fascination with the number 2000 gave rise too many questions and interpretations.
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I felt that many people tend to round off the period from '2000' to '2009' as the first decade of the new century. I wanted to say to them that..'2000' does not belong to the family of the first decade of the new century. This was my personal view and I knew many people would not subscibe to my view outright considering my 'affinity' towards Mathematics.. :)). Also , In the previous century , people referred a year by its last two digits. No problem. What wondered me is the fact that people had ceased to do it the next immediate century ?. Queer!. Cant get it..? See '1997' was simply referred colloquially just as '97'. Why have the people not followed suit ?. Why is '2000' not referred just as '0'. '2001' was not referred as 'one'.
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Thirdly,(this was due to the fact that I saw 'Hey Ram') I wanted to advice people. I wanted them not to write the date as 31.12.00 for 31.12.2000. Why u ask..?.I felt that suppose you write 31.12.00 , the archeologists who will see our writings thousands and thousands of years later may not be able find out the exact date of our works easily when they dig for something called 'Coovum Valley Civilisation'. (Civilisation??.. Are we Sure..??.. We'll settle that question later..). They may get confused whether its 31.12.2000 or 31.12.1900!. I felt this would be a great favour for 'generations to come'.
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And all this thought occured to me as I rode that bicycle.As Christoper Morley put it... "The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets". And hence I knew I was a futuristic thinker !. The point that I really want to make here is at that time , I felt I was extremely brilliant. I was antonym to modesty. I now realise that sometimes it is good to not to be modest.
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Hercules Top Gear had a depreciation(all because of my rough handling) rate of 50 percent for a year.And so by the time I reached my plus one( which is also quite an achievement) , I wanted a cycle once again to commute to school which was good 3.5 Kms away.
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I bought this conventional 'Annamalai' cycle... I had then moved to a suburb that is according to me wrongly christened 'Nanganallur'.Nangai'(women) 'Nal' (Good) 'Oor' (Town). I with all my experience now confess none of the women there are 'good' now both in terms of looks and behavior.Since I was new to the place , I did not know the 'route' to my school. I would wait in my cycle at the corner of my street. A 'fleet' of girls with uniform of my school would travel. I used to follow them.(simply because i did not know the route). They had a routine 'long' route by which all their friends home gets covered.They thought I was a 'Poriki' following them everywhere. It took me one week to get a grip of the place and I found a route which was most convenient.I now realise when you follow someone else's route , all you get is bad name even though your intentions are not bad.!

And..from now on.. My way will be always different.
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After school I did not require cycle. I became dependent on my friends who had bikes.Hence one day my parents sold this 'Annamalai' cycle of mine without my consent. I was livid with them. I felt as though a part of mine was being sold.... And I realise now that it was not part of mine but part of life. I have to move on. Separation is inevitable. See how relevant the main title of my blog is!
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And Now I move on with regrets that I have shown moments of madness. The past is something that I want to 'obliviate' asap. I have not been able to cross the line and also I have never been able to get the 'good' name that I felt I deserved ....I am a good person. I know. I hope others will also know.
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As an anonymous said.. 'A bicycle does get you there and more And there is always the thin edge of danger to keep you alert and comfortably apprehensive. Dogs become dogs again and snap at your feet; potholes become personal. And getting there is all the fun.'..

FUN - The word for which I have been searching the meaning for quite sometime now.