Thank Almighty!

I think of things I got to do. Then there are thoughts about writing something. I seem to have hit a writer’s block. So the first thing to be done is to demand the block to get out of my way. I think it is moving oh so slowly because writing down your thoughts is one thing but creating thoughts in order to write them down is completely another.

Anyway, now that I have started writing let me tell you about an incident that happened during my school days. I was in class 7 and my parents had just bought me a new bicycle. Needless to say, it was then my most prized possession. The very next day I said goodbye to my school-bus and pedaled my way to school. Boy, it was blissful. Many other friends had their own bicycles and there was nothing in terms of envy, around. But as they say in Hindi, “KISIKI NAZAR LAG GAYI” on my cycle.

My neighbor who was also my classmate and who also had a bicycle had damaged his cycle’s lock. So in school we used to lock our cycles together using my wire lock. After returning from school, he used to carry his cycle all the way to the 3rd floor of his building till his house. One day he carried my wire lock along and my cycle was left unlocked in the parking. Then I guess, within half an hour my precious cycle was stolen.

I was distraught to say the least and even though my classmate ferried me double-seat to school and back, I hurled abuses at him for being careless about my cycle. Days passed but my grief wouldn’t subside. On one particular weekend I was alone at home. I went to the room where we had our little temple with idols and pictures of deities. For the next one hour I wept and pleaded to God to somehow retrieve to me what I had lost. It was only when I thought I had no tears left that I stopped weeping.

The next day another neighbor much younger to me and who studied in my school said, “Bhaiya, I saw a cycle very similar to yours in school. It’s locked with a green padlock.” I smiled and thanked him for the info, but in my mind rubbished off any hopes of getting back my cycle. Nevertheless, the next day I carried the purchase receipt of my cycle with me to school. It bore the cycle’s unique manufacturing number.

I walked into the school gate and glanced left to the cycle parking lot. Something caught my eye and I walked towards it. I saw the green padlock my little neighbor had mentioned about. It was of course locking a chain wound around the rear wheel of a bicycle. MY BICYCLE, I thought. I took out the receipt and checked the number. Yes, it was the same. Of all places I had found my cycle in my own school. I called some of my friends and everyone confirmed. That afternoon me and my friends rushed to the cycle parking after school and found who the new owner was. I took down his address and that very evening I and my parents were at his place.

The place was a slum of sorts and the boy’s parents were not returning my cycle. Their argument was that someone had sold them the cycle and they even produced a paper receipt with a revenue stamp affixed. We then threatened them with police action for purchasing a stolen cycle. Now they mellowed down and with some convincing and about 200 rupees my cycle was back with me.

God had heard and my joy knew no bounds as I rode back home on my cycle with my parent’s following in an auto-rickshaw. I also remember getting a bloody lip just before I reached home, but I was too happy to care. Nah, I didn’t get into a brawl or something. I had just bent down to kiss my cycle’s handle while riding when I hit a speed breaker and bruised my lip. After reaching home I thanked my little neighbor first and then most importantly thanked God. From then on, every day even I started carrying my cycle daily to the 3rd floor till my house.