No this story is not about a mom pillion riding with her daughter /son on her/his bike and hitting her/him whenever the speedometer needle tries to kiss the 60 Kmph mark.
No this story is not about a lady, somebody’s mom, riding a bike trying to meet a target on the speedometer dial.
This story is about a naïve young boy riding his bike.
So our hero is on his way back from a big mall, one of the most buzzing ones in the city. A mall where as many footsteps fall as there are air molecules in the incoming air.
It was 2 o’clock in the Sunday afternoon. Though there were many people in the mall the roads barely has a soul. With noone on the road, it was expected to be a good ride back home, a much needed break from the daily rush of traffic, those maddening sound of horns. Well a 38 degree Celsius temperature and that too on a Sunday is after all not all that inviting for people to venture out on the roads. The mall had a central air conditioning.
And true to his expectations the road was empty. It was a 4 lane road, a delight to ride, with a Moto Pre kind of chicane in its short life of just under 5 Kms, very right called Inner ring Road. He like it all the more as it allowed him to ride his bike without ever stepping on the brakes. He hated to use the brakes. All his braking was dine by absence of throttle. Good at estimating he used brakes only when he had to come to a complete stop.
With the music from his iPOD ringing in his ears, he upped the volume and kick started his bike. Just one more traffic signal and I’m off for the beauty and then on the beauty.
The throttle was pushed to limits, the wind roared past him. As he zipped past the lone cars, the percussion in his ears ebbed and gave way to a nice saxophone. An aircraft was approaching the nearby landing strip to land. The slim needle touched 60, kissed 80, hugged 100 and stretched for the 105. He knew it was all in the reach; of his, of his bike, of the speedometer needle and within the road’s.
He entered the chicane, an S shaped turn. He entered the first curve, a very smoothly and nicely executed turn. Stayed in the outermost lane all the way, never did he cross the white line; never did any body see his tail light glow. He hated to use the brakes.
A bike … A speedometer …
He entered the second curve which tightly followed the first curve. Switched on his indicator lights and moved on to the outermost lane. He liked that lane, gave him the opportunity to incline his bike as low as possible. Needles to say it was a well maneuvered turn.
Just as he was about to straighten up, there was a cow on the road in his lane.
Never ever had there been a cow on this stretch of the road; with too less time to react, he stepped hard on his read brake, pumped his front brake, simultaneously swerving to avoid the cow. But some distances are just too small.
BAM!! He hit the cow in her stomach. All the way he went from his seat and landed on his petrol tank. Must have had braked quite hard. He doesn’t remember what happened to the cow, the animal was trying to get up some 7 feet away.
He started his bike and went on.
Not a feeling.
Speed thrills but mostly kills.
We all have had read this somewhere, everywhere, though never understood in totality the meaning nor did we ever cared about it unless we have a near ‘kills’ experience.
Only if the cow could have known about this and had not been on the road, the animal would have had been much better.
Someone somewhere said “How disgusting! You hit a cow. Cow is like our mother.”
Another replied “Then keep you mom at home, why do you let her roam on the road like this?”
…. and hence the mom.
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any person living or dead is incidental.
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