BSA Street cat. It was the coolest bike when I was in school. Those who desired it and had their parents crush their tiny dreams, they went ahead and bought Hercules MTB. I was the lucky one. I had the Street cat.
Its funny that sitting in 2016, This morning my thoughts took me all the way back to 1995. Anyways, that’s that. It would have been nice to stumble onto it’s picture.
The tale predates the time I got the cycle. School had its phases. I believe right from the sixth grade, it was extremely cool to ride the cycle to school. I mean only dorky kids still commuted in the designated school van. Of course, there were those kids who stayed far. The story that old and I’m still trying to sound politically correct. Ditch it. Cool kids hit the school in style on their cycles!!!!!!
So before the dawn of the age of the cycles, it was the school van. I remember this one incident when I was seated right next to this kid. He was a few classes younger than me. I don’t remember how things took shape but I did end up correcting his home work notebook. I had generously awarded him a few stars.
Needless to say, the next day his mom was waiting to have a word with me. Yeah, that was fun. She insisted on meeting my mother. Things didn’t go all that well for me later that evening. I had learnt a lesson that day. ‘DONT GET CAUGHT doing stupid things’.
The gym was fun today. I’m seeing a change in pace ever since I start guzzling proteins again. I wrapped the day’s work out and settled down for a cup of lemon tea. I parked my car in my usual place and started walking towards the familiar shop. It was a daily routine and I had no reason to expect anything out of the ordinary.
I thought I saw a familiar face. ‘Didn’t ya study in ‘Hindu’ ‘, I politely asked the bloke.
We both strained for a few seconds and then our memories finally indexed and caught up. He was the same kid whose homework I had managed to mess up. Decades later, he had grown taller than me. He had this manly mustache. There still were traces of his facial features from when I knew him.
We exchanged names and quickly verified the homework incident. Our pointless conversation was interrupted by his little girl. Shruthi. He introduced me to her. The little one had a magical voice. Good morning uncle, she greeted me.
I smiled and felt bad that I didn’t have anything handy to give her. We spoke a little about her school. She was waiting for her school van to pick her up. Her van arrived on cue. Before she boarded the van, I told her that I had first met her daddy when he was just about her age. She blushed and left me with a smile.
I bid my farewell to my long lost van acquaintance. I hit the shop for my cup of lemon.
I couldn’t help but reminisce about the circle of life. Similar iterations with new souls and bodies taking part in each iteration. I felt happy and amused. There was a side of me that felt a little sad. I took stock of how much I had fallen back on my life. When I was a kid, the 33 year old version of me was very very different. I had always imagined myself to be much taller, a mustache to accessorize my face. A naughty kid of mine to keep the household occupied in a perpetual struggle to restore the sanity in the house.
I don’t think I’d complain. I don’t want to take that road of What ifs ever again. I settled down to read a few blogs from my other circle. One caught my attention. It was about the ironies of life. It was about how we neglect the wonderful things that surrounds us and fixate on what we don’t have and feel horrible about what we are missing out on life. That blog was a timely send.
I smiled, paid for my cup and stretched my arms wide open under the bright burning sun. I felt thankful for the strength and courage that I’ve managed to acquire over the years. I looked towards the skies. ‘I still dare to dream, you know that right?‘, I gently whispered to the heavens.
In silence, the universe acknowledged.