'The victory is not always to the swift' but 'Slow and steady wins the race'
This happened a few days back when I was traveling in a city bus in Pune, India (one of my very few bus travels there) and was wondering how could a bus possibly be able to travel at the speed of, say… 10 – 20 kmph. It was that slow that I looked out the window and saw the walkers on the pavement overtake the bus I was traveling.
Just then did I realize that the reason for this super speed of the bus -- an imp of a guy, determined to ride his bicycle in the middle of the road, just in front of the bus in just the speed to irritate every one around.
As always, I was immediately transported to my childhood days in our residential quarters. That fun filled days of bicycling our way through all the blocks in the campus still lingers in my mind.
Come weekends & vacation and so will come my dads ideas to escape from us. The look on our face when we beg dad for 1 re each… for me & my brother… the look on my dad’s face not wanting to part with coins every other hour on all those holidays … is just toooo unforgettable. Wondering why?? Those are the times when just one or two kids in the block had a bicycle on their own and all other kids would run to the cycle shop that rents out cute little cycles for 50ps per hour. Then again, we had only 2 cycle shops in our locality at that time and its on first come first basis & we were like so MANY kids around.
Even today, when I feel the top of my head… I remember the knuckle knocks my brother so very lovingly implanted on my head to teach me to ride the tine-vine bicycle. Going on wild races with buddies in our residential block… like I would definitely say ‘Feeling the breeze in my hair’ was an experience by itself. What do u say?
Some times, when I think of some of my friends who came from the richer crowd, I really do pity them. Yes of course, they had their own bicycles but not the fun to be the first to run to the cycle shop and rent out the bicycle that was just right for ur size. Yes... they did have friends to play along with… in closed compound walls, with just one bicycle… either theirs or their friends.. Wherever they were at that time. But us… it was all the crazy kids could care for… hoots & yells & giggles when one crashed into another... not intentionally though. A crash here when few of us were learning to ride it, another bang since the brakes had failed or rather never existed, a crash there when the more experienced show off & bang into a hard wall… what fun those were.
Now all set to ride the bicycle in good speed & good balance… we thought & knew it was an achievement. Then came the Republic Day sport competition in our quarters.. and there were words around that cycling competition was introduced for the first time. This time it was dad who asked us to take part. By this time, my brother had a cycle of his own & he very caringly went out early & got me a rented bicycle.
We were there all fresh & saluting our national flag… orange mittai (sugar candy) distributed, cheeks bulging, tongue colored and too eager that our enthusiasm was infectious. First came frog race, then sack race, running race, and and and… it went on. Finally they called in the participant for slow cycling race. Hello… am I hearing it right? Did we hear it right? SLOW cycling? Cycling to us was always synonymous with SPEED. We looked into each other’s face & thought, what the heck - we’ll do it.
And we did it as well. Of course we dint win. Our society secretary’s kid won the prize… a cute little stainless steel tumbler and we were jealous. We dnt know anything about the race and he did it like an expert. The slowest and the steadiest won the race. How wonderfully the proverb suits this event.
I did take part in many more slow cycling events but never did I win any. I realize now that I did it to prove myself that I tried doing something against the law… against the word wat bicycle stands for… speed & equilibrium. But, I think nature wanted me to take things as they are meant for... something different at times & try that as well. All is fair in luv & war (ok... races).
By the way… I also know ‘Too much is too bad’… So here ends my gibberish about one of my childhood freak-outs. If I had some how rekindled some long lost memories of yours... somewhere that was deep within you… I’m happy & glad that that I could touch someone’s heart in a nice way.
