8/9 is a day that will remain permanently etched in my mind. No, its not a sequel to 9/11 or 7/11. Neither is it my birthday nor my parent’s anniversary. It’s the day I became the owner of a bike.
It had taken an year of coaxing and cajoling my parents. ‘A two-wheeler is very unsafe, number of accidents are on the rise, people these days have no traffic sense’- were some of their justifications. My grandpa offered me his old Maruti. A collegian conquering the roads on a car was just not my idea of machoism. I just didn’t have words to convince them that a ride on a bike is no comparison to a drive in a car. The newspaper added to my woes. While I browsed through ads of bikes, my mother only read headlines blurting ‘ Youth killed in bike accident.’ I wondered if my desire to own a bike would remain a dream forever. At college too, a daily ritual was to admire the array of bikes in the parking slots – how sleek, sturdy, ruf and tuf the Pulsars, Karizmas, Avengers, CBZ s, Apaches, Yamahas(RXZ) looked. I would even risk going late to class but never miss out on the visit to the parking garages. My travails of commuting by the city buses continued. I moved around with a sad forlorn look. Would I ever have a bike of my own? Perhaps it was my good fortune that my parents and grand parents sensed my need and passion for a bike. They relented reluctantly. The ‘D’ day arrived and it was a pleasant surprise to see my bike at our doorstep, all draped in red ribbons. It was the best gift I had ever received. After the customary ‘pooja’ at the Sampath Vinayak temple, I formally inaugurated my bike.
Now its no more a ‘neighbours envy’ but an ‘owners pride’. I have realized that as long as I keep my promise to abide by traffic rules, ride at a safe speed, never forget the mandatory helmet, zooming on my bike would remain my most exhilarating experience. And of course, my most prized possession that sets my heart pulsating- my Bajaj Pulsar.
