A bicycle story

I like to idle the days away when I am at home. Sometimes I would sit by the side of the fulcrum of daily activities in the home - the dining table, watching the silhouette shuffling inside kitchen, hearing clinking sound of vessels and occasionally inhaling time sensitive aroma coming coming out of kitchen. Sitting over there give me a chance to participate in tiny house hold things. Or I might stroll around the premises.

On such a trail I got inside the out house . You can see many things over there waiting for a peaceful demise. The things ranges from a dilapidated kitchen sink to unused water hose. There I found my old bicycle rests in a pool of dust.

The sight of that abandoned equipment re winded the reel back to years....I got possession of a bicycle after a long wait. I remembered the day my dad came soaked in summer rain pedaling a brand new blue BSA SLR cycle.

I was standing in front of the house enjoying the rain. I always like the zest with which rain drops embraces the ground.They just fall freely taking shape of perfect spheres to cool air and mind. [ Recently one of my friend opined that it is not because of gravity all things are coming towards earth, but simply the earth sucks !!]

It is one of the virtues of villages that if somebody sees you walking in the rain without the protection of an umbrella, he or she may come running to offer you one. Sometimes you may hear an yell out from sides to share some roof. If it is about to rain then u may be offered a bicycle so that u will be safe at your destiny. An invisible care cover you there.

So on seeing my dad pedaling a bicycle pointed me only to one possibility - a rental from an acquaintance. But lately it was ruled out. He bought it for me. Once I convinced he was not kidding any more , I overwhelmed. For the first time I felt the compulsion of possessiveness. Within minutes I got attached strongly to it.

The BSA SLR of which each cog made an impression on me , the one I toyed a lot the one , the one I possessed a lot laid abandoned in front of me in a puddle of dust.

Possessiveness the very feeling that make submissive and keep attached. I succumbed and laid force less under it, leaving behind my good friends and study , waking up for a ride and sleeping for the next ride....But with how much vigor we hold our possessiveness as the time elongates?

If there is any consolation for a tragedy for something we feel possessive, is the hope that it is for the best. How much often we resort to this consolation?
Is it whimsical to abandon them in the debris of newest??


Am I became a pragmatist who peace fully throws away the possessive bondage for convenience? Yes I am Not I am not in the same time.

It is too a wish to rain again as in the same day my dad came with the surprise....