Life is an adventure, life is a series of adventures.
When we were young, our life was carefree, fear free, mind free and we were very happy. We did not have much but for us it was everything. Sharing, caring and respect for each other was what was taught by our parents.
We did not own a bicycle but wanted to learn to ride one. Once, I and my sister approached our parents for permission and money to hire a bicycle. Permissions granted, but we had to earn the 10 paisa by doing extra chores in the house, washing the bathroom and scrubbing the floor. We got our 10 paisa and we hired a bicycle for an hour. “Hey sister!” I said to my sister: “Let's live for the now and not for the later.” We thought our life was great, no more waiting for tomorrow. We were thrilled and started jumping up and down on the dusty, unlevelled ground.
We decided that one of us could sit on the seat and the other hold the bike from the back. We took turns, we wobbled, crashed and fell. We tried to find balance on the bike, with determination to learn, never thinking of the path behind or the bumpy road ahead.
We never gave up and stood beside each other. Our knees and elbows brushed, bleeding and covered with dirt. We aimed high to follow our dream. Next day, we hired the bicycle for two hours and practised until we mastered the art of riding, and could ride a bike freely.
Now we decided to go on the real road to go a bit further to the small village market to pick up some Toro leaves (called Arbi). These leaves are a famous vegetarian dish in Maharashtra, India. The leaves are large like rhubarb leaves. These are washed then coated with paste made with besan (gram flour) mixed with spices and water and then rolled like Swiss rolls. They are then steamed. Our aim was to take these bunch of Toro Leaves home and surprise the family.
The road to the market was not safe for a first time bike rider, but we made it and got the Taro leaves in the bag, then headed back on our bicycle to home. Coming around the corner, the path was rough, gravelled and uneven and I saw a massive cement truck coming forward. I panicked and feared for my life and fell off the bike on the footpath. My right arm was badly hurt and my younger sister’s left side was brushed. We were both in severe pain and could not ride.
The truck driver did not stop and none of the public helped us. In India, when accidents happen people gather for the free “entertainment” show without helping or calling the police. People are scared to get involved with the police, so basically we left without any help, care or sympathy. Both of us just helped each other and then walked miles, dragging the bike to get back home. We returned the hired bicycle to the shop and felt bad about the adventure to get the Toro leaves. We left the leaves in the kitchen and hid ourselves in our room, locked the door and cried our hearts out. We were so scared of our elders and did not want to get into trouble. Our sister in-law saw the Toro leaves bag in the kitchen and found us locked in our room and called our elder brother.
They all banged on the door and ordered us to come out. Eventually, we open the door and let them in. We were so scared of their angry faces. Our brother was telling us off, but when he saw my swollen arm, he calmed down and took us to the hospital to get it checked out. They found that my right arm was broken and they plastered it. My sister was okay and nothing was broken except some bruising. I was crippled for a few months.
Not much sympathy from family but warning given ‘No bicycle riding ever again’. Our dear Mum took care of us both. She was the most inspiring woman in our life. She encouraged us to get better soon and promised to give us money to hire the bicycle once we fully recovered.
My friends wrote funny but good wishes on my plastered arm. They supported me with their remarkable friendship which put a smile on my face. They encouraged me with their wise words: ‘You suffer what is real pain, but you bounce back and start believing in yourself again.’
Then a few months later, I was back on my hired bicycle, freely riding on the road, just like birds flying up in the sky.