Break a leg!
Exams are such a boring times of academic year. You wake up all night, preparing for the exam ahead and at the end of the night, go back to sleep, being defiant of your doom. Such a night was today! :P
And guess what!? I found a pic ;) A pic which reminded me of something that had been lost in the memories of time. A memory of hard labor and dripping sweat, of escalating joy and unbounded freedom. All those memories, condensed in a moment. A moment that is imprinted on my heart, rather than any photograph.
Most of you might have memories of learning bicycle with your dad, lesser with mum, and some of you might not have even learned how to ride a bicycle. But those of you who have learned bicycle riding on your own, those who have fallen, torn their jeans and brushed their ankles in the gravels, this image depicts what you have over all those others.
It was a bright afternoon, even though it was raining in Mumbai, Pune was still getting none of it. I had just returned from school and entered home in such a rush that i simply let my eyes float over the bright yellow-black bicycle standing in the corner. And when i saw it, i was shocked!
Yeeeeeeeeeee!!! Yeppie hoo!! :D ☺
Dad had been promising me a bicycle for over a month now. And now when here it was, I couldn’t help myself from not smiling.
Evening came, and today i was the king of the streets! Don’t over-do with your imaginations. Still i was on the ground. :P Here came the problem. I had always wanted to ride a bicycle of my own. Now i had bicycle. Still i couldn’t fulfill my wish. I had never learnt how to ride the bicycle.
And so started the training. I chose a lonely spot in the clearing of the woods i had around our locality (a plus for army brats). The spot was awesome in its essence. It had a good slope length, a smooth road, a little of graveled path and uneven path of the jungle terrain. And yeah, a depth of doom. ;) I started with simply holding the bike and going on foot with it for the whole track. At times when coming down the slopes, i would try to jump on the bicycle, to no avail.
In just a week tore up 2 jeans and Mum gave me knickers :P
Henceforth came the never-ending relay of bruises and broken arms with fumes of Dettol and silky touch of bandages. Had uncountable little little cuts all over my palms, arms and heels and elbows and knees all covered in mud and grease. At times plunged deep into the depths of the doom, breaking breaks and axle of bicycle.
Rains were starting to pour now and my “Secret Training Location” had been compromised by the rainwater and broken branches.Who the hell says that Pune gets lesser rain than Mumbai. Skies hadn’t cleared since days and there were crabs going touring and partying around in the water.
Finally the weather cleared after 5 days. I rushed to my training location, sat on the seat firmly and let go…
Rather than taking the usual path through jungle, today i took the turn to the general population. And to my surprise, i had managed to remain seated for more than 1 minute. And i was going on and on.. Whoa!! Badoom! bashhh.. chapaaak!! Got hit by another bicycle and off the road to a dirty mud pothole.
Huh! Broke my streak. :#
But week later i was driving my bicycle with hands released, racing it up the streets of colony. Smuggling the bike to the Golf Fields and to the dismay of the keepers, ruining all the grass. Going to the stream and riding against the water. Going places, with just me and my bicycle. Wandering into the streets, just because of the joy of pedaling. The awesome feeling i had felt at that time is sparse nowadays.
Still i tend to get that same sense of joy with my programming. Every time i look at some new language that i want to learn, or a technology i want to test, the process starts all over again. Choosing a battlefield, practicing to the fullest means, getting bruised and abused, testing it in the open, and be delighted by my labor.
Though i have never broke a leg with programming, still i wish for the same.. ☺
Originally published at tiwarivikram.wordpress.com on October 3, 2012.