Wheeled

As far as I can recollect it was winter of 1987 in a small district town where I was working at an office.The usual ten to five job.The town was a sleepy one without any excitement.Much hard cash had to be shelled out for short cycle-rickshaw rides. Pitying me a kind old man lent me a bicycle which I happily began using for travelling.Incidentally, the old mans son owned a 150cc scooter which I began to envy. I yearned to own some motorized bike.

Since I was then only of 47 kg the thought of handling a 90 kg heavy scooter was frightening. One fine morning I saw an office colleague on a shining new 80 cc red & white Bajaj M-80 "motorcycle" Inquisitively I asked him the price,availability and mileage. His replies excited me and I trundled off to the showroom. I saw a blue & white model and fell in love ! Though I knew how to ride a bicycle, I had no idea how to handle a motorized two-wheeler with three gears !

Within a week I raised a loan from my office.Flaunting the demand draft I proudly went to the showroom in a cycle rickshaw with a friend. Buying formalities over, I sat on the pillion with my friend at the driver's seat. He drove me to my residence and bid good night.Next day I procured a "learners" driving license from RTA. I was ashamed to display "L" sign .Traffic police in the districts weren't so strict in those days.

Another colleague of mine taught me how to drive the contraption. I practised in a small patch of land in front of my house and in less than two days became overconfident! Proudly I hit the roads solo.Fortunately there wasn't much traffic those days.It felt as though I was at the steering wheel of a Mercedes or Porsche with wind swishing in my helmetless ears.

Early next morning I took my young wife and two year old son to the local "Kalibari" to take the blessings of the goddess. As I was trying to put the bike on stand, it fell into a drain with the engine roaring.I didn't know how to switch off the engine!! A kindly lady instructed me to press the switch on the right handle-bar. Red and violet in the face , I thanked the kindly lady and gingerly lifted muddy wheels calmly listening to my wife's admonitions.My son was clapping his hands in joy shouting "Babai pore gachhe !"(Daddy has fallen !) Soon I bagged a permanent driving license and drove confidently for a year.

Next job at a metropolis saw me on my blue-white M-80 commuting 30-40 km daily rain or shine. Doorstep to doorstep with minimum effort ! I was a king in his own chariot.By god's grace I drove the bike for 13 years without any major mishap.Goddess Kali had blessed it ! Then it began sprouting troubles of old age. I sold it off and bought another pea-green M-80 in winter 2000. No "kali" this time. I was to work at a place which had no parking area.For the last 3 years I have been trying to sell it but no buyer could get the registration transferred. We are living together under the same roof. The nice M-80 is a relic full of memories.I still love her and just can't bear to see it rusting away to scrap.

Author's Notes/Comments: