The Big Red Bicycle.

“Baba!” he cried and ran into his grandfather’s open arms, as soon as he saw him arrive at the gate of his house at the far end of the lawn. The grandfather was happy and received his grandson with a tight hug and smile on his face. “When did you people come back?” asked his grandfather. “We came back this afternoon”, replied the boy. “And how was your vacations”, asked his grandfather putting him down again and holding his hand as they walked towards the house. “It was great, Baba, I learnt how to ride a bicycle. “Oh really, that’s wonderful!” exclaimed his grandfather. “Yes, I learnt it on Rohit’s old bicycle, it felt great. “ He said excitedly. “You know Rohit has a new bicycle now, a big black one. I didn’t ride it I was afraid I would fall off, and everyone would laugh at me.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of people laughing at your mistakes. Everyone falls off a bicycle when he is learning”, said his grandfather, as he opened his bedroom’s door and switched on the fan and light. The boy climbed up the bed and opened the window, the cool evening breeze started to drift in bringing along with it a faint smell of newly sprouted mangoes from the tree nearby. “Did you fall off the bicycle too?” asked the boy. “Yes I did, many a times”, said his grandfather. “Did Papa fall off the bicycle too?” he asked again. “Yes he fell off too”, his grandfather said, the gentle smile never leaving his face as he sat down on his rocking chair and the boy settled down on the bed.

“Did everyone laugh when Papa fell off the bicycle?” he asked. “Yes they did, they laughed at me too when I fell from the bicycle. But your father never gave up, he continued practicing and see now, he can not only ride the bicycle, but the scooter and our old jeep too.” his grandfather replied. “I will also practice then and I will learn to ride the big bicycle without falling off it” he said and ran out of the room. The grandfather gave out a short laugh and looked at his grandson as he ran out with a twinkle in his eyes. He looked at the calendar hanging on the opposite wall, his eyes rested on the next Thursday of the month it would be his grandson’s tenth birthday. He smiled.

That Thursday he came home early in the evening and as usual met his grandson at the gate of the house. He greeted him with “happy birthday”, he responded with a thank you and asked where his gift was? The grandfather called out to the boy’s mother. “Tell me Baba, why didn’t you get me a present”, said the boy tugging at his arms. The boy’s mother came out running from inside the house, the pallu of her saree tugged over her head and stood in front of him motionless looking at her feet. “Get him dressed I am taking him to the market”, said the grandfather. “Tell me Baba what will you buy for me at the market”, asked the boy. “Go wash yourself and get dressed first”, said his grandfather. The boy was excited. He immediately ran into the house dodging his mother and in to the bathroom, he washed his dirty feet and his hands and his face. The mother took out some fresh clothes from the cupboard and gave it to him. In a few minutes he was wearing a fresh set of clothes, clean shoes and his curly hair was combed.

The boy came out and saw his grandfather sitting on a chair in the verandah sipping tea and reading the newspaper. “Baba, I am ready”, he said. “Yes, yes let me finish my tea and we will go”, said his grandfather. “What are we getting from the market? Should I get a bag?” the boy asked. “No we will not need a bag”, said his grandfather. “Then what is it? Tell me Baba, please?” pleaded the boy. The grandfather put down the cup of tea, folded the news paper and stood up. The boy ran and opened the front gate. The grandfather followed him in to the street. The boy walked in front of him, he asked him to hold his hand. The boy came back and held his hand and walked beside him. The boy looked at the shops with excitement. All the time he was thinking what his grandfather would buy him, may be a pair of new jeans or a cricket bat because his old one was chipped at the end, or will he buy him a set of the latest Asterix comic books, like Rohit had. But he had no way of knowing it, he kept asking his grandfather to tell him but his grandfather did nothing but smile at him.

Then they turned into a lane on their left and he saw a row of bicycle shops lined up till the end of the lane. The boy went berserk with excitement. “It’s a bicycle, it’s a bicycle”, he jumped with joy. His grandfather laughed. The crowd around them watched them in amusement. The grandfather took the boy into a shop. The owner seemed to have known him for long and greeted him with a Namaste. The grandfather asked the boy to select a bicycle that he liked and he sat beside the owner to have a chat with him. In few minutes he heard the boy call out to him “Baba, this one”. He was sitting on a bicycle red in color with a red seat and long curved hands, both his legs firmly on the ground. “Do you expect to stay this tall throughout your life?” asked the grandfather coming up to him, “how about this one”. The boy saw that his grandfather was standing next to a big red bicycle with straight handles the latest one that he had seen on television advertisements. He knew all the kids in his block would be impressed with him if he could learn how to ride it. But he knew that his legs won’t reach the ground, so he might fall off and make a fool of himself. “But I will not be able to ride it”, he said to his grandfather. “I will teach you how to ride it, don’t worry”, said his grandfather, reassuringly. The boy smiled at him.

They came out of the shop the boy holding the bicycle and walking beside it and his grandfather walked on the other side of the bicycle. As they reached their block the grandfather asked the boy to mount the bicycle and ride it home. He held the bicycle, while the boy sat on it and pressed his right foot on the pedal. The bicycle took off, the grandfather held the seat and walked beside the bicycle. The boy pressed the left foot, the bicycle gained some speed, he pressed the right foot again and then the left again. The bicycle gained speed and gently his grandfather let go of the seat. He was now riding the big red bicycle all by himself and he had not yet fallen off it. He was jubilant with excitement. He saw his friend and called out “hey look, my new bicycle”. But he was now reaching his house he saw his mother and his little sister standing at the gate waiting to welcome his new bicycle. He applied the brakes, the bicycle slowed down, bumped into a small pot hole, the front wheel wobbled and the boy went flying to the other side of road falling on his back on the pavement. His friend came running to him and picked up his bicycle, his mother came running to him, his grandfather came running to him, his little sister laughed at him and so did his friend. He looked up at his grandfather, tears swelling up in his eyes, his vision became blurry.

“Now that you have fallen you have learnt a lesson, always be careful”, said his grandfather squatting beside him and dusting off the dirt from his clothes. His mother wiped his cheeks. “Come on give it another try and this time be careful”, said his grandfather holding the bicycle and dusting the seat. The boy looked at him. “Come”, said the grandfather gesturing and giving him a assuring smile. The boy sat on the seat, held the handles firmly and pressed his right foot. The bicycle started to roll. Slowly the grandfather left the bicycle, his friend ran beside him clapping and laughing. The grandfather watched him with a smile on his face.