Cyclewala ( The Cyclist ) – I

What’s up for me?” 

 This brings the biggest confusion in ones life. And with the onus of leading this conversation, he decided to paddle and talk throughout the corners of the city he once embraced.

It wasn’t much of a dusk when the sun seemed weighing down and all he conversed with himself was nothing. He probably found the city exploration much tempting than having a boring exchange of blames with himself. He grasped a sight of girls shimmering with emeralds on their neck, kneeling on the temples doors praying to God for everything they had, escapingly shuttering their eyes to excuse themselves for a while and expectably getting themselves showered with more love, more beauty and more happiness.  

” Go home, you! “, he grasped to himself sensing greed in the hearts of those ladies. And then he sought himself a question which made him think his sight even once. ” What’s up for me? If these Yankees have immense greed, what’s up with me? I too have greed and maybe that’s how life is. Many people would long for having a bicycle like mine’s or maybe good health. It is not bad at all! “. 

He had immense observative capability and more of it, he had the chance to interpret his observance in the course of life. Many a times he would just explore the city he thrived in, coming back home being the same man he was when he first paddled. Cycling was an exercise, not a psychological therapy, he coined. But this time he giggled as he was challenged by life to interpret her meaning. 

“Many a times we wander searching for things that don’t exist. We paddle because we want to reach somewhere. That somewhere is sometimes nowhere. But that is not a problem. The problem is when a dive into nothing, feel depressed and in the quest of accumulating nothingness, we lose everything we had. The trust is broken, the chain is broken and the lust of reaching somewhere breaks just as the bicycle goes straight into a gutter. In the course of finding a new life and openly declaring war with ourselves, we lead to dead end…”, an excessively loud horn intrupped his paddling and he banked to the favourable side of the road. 

” Phew, that was close!”, he had the glance of a large 18-tier truck chasing the bicycle’s carrier as he was riding right in the middle of road. 

The wobble in his mind was teasinlgy uncommon to him. He never much cared if he was to lose something or to hope for better, or to feel disgraced or expect from nothing he seemed to have. He was far away from his time for people of his age were on their early professions. He was but searching for something else..

To be continued…

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A Moral Recollection

It’s not easy but wise to revisit a memoire. Whilst staring at what did really happened, apart from bringing mystical goosebumps, one could hardly refrain from a little known fact that it was you behind but ahead of everything. 

Explore with the me, how I lead a little stage of my life and how I see it fading forcibly in breeze of a new time that’s on the way! 

Things began with an oblivion, while lifting my brown eyes before a summertime sunrise and having a beautiful fear of what’s coming up next. I had to move to a place I have never been to, in addition to the fact that I have to be there for few years to come. I got to learn my predecessors might have learnt, so fulfilling the promise of leading was lurking on my head. 

With a little of something I believe I had, I reached where every face was a painting coming out of dark colors in a brighter place. In a room full of people already leading a conversation, I asked the designated leader to let me in. The voices were a first to me ear and I admit for someone like me, it was a gift. For more of summer days coming up, I borrowed from the new people the essence of living a life, in a better way I must say. The ones that had the capacity to hold the thoughts I possess, went on to be my friends. Those who don’t, disagreed to be my competitors! So, living up and down and still waging neutral proved to be rather enjoyable. Where heading into newer horizons is a blessing, I seem to shower into blessings with every mornings coming! Because I remember in the crescent memory, how I let myself explore the real me and how I come to see this world so wild and free.

Everything I once had was forgotten, but for a little while until I knew that was all a dream. 

A dream is something that knows no begin and no end just as life is it to us. That was life, a breathing hope at all times. Even a bad hope, for god’s sake! I can’t say how it was meant to be a dream, I just made it a dream and I fail to make one after years that happened to come. I’m into something I believed was closer to fiction, and it seems to be closing down without a clear sense of what to happen next, without a full stop

I swirled around the world and informed no one what I’m onto. That seems to be a mistake the economists call business. When into the real world trade of emotions, one can hardly emit positivity before the world seem ending. It’s not what we strive for, not what we dream and atleast not what we deserve. When hope is a damage to the society, positivity an evil and being human, a disgrace. 

Why I term it as a Moral Recollection is what that makes me feel the real steal. It’s what you make you out of you and still keep of longing that you were never you what you really wanted to be. What this ‘real you’ was I think I shall never be able to understand. But I do possess the decency to oppose the authority of destiny. It is on its own reasons to peel off the me out of myself, the little possession I share along with being decent. 

Life Is a Bazaar

This time I won’t let an idle chance of forgetting what I’m going to write. Why? You question… I can’t wait to forget for the life is a bazaar and if I pause, jam will happen! Got it? 

This I recall from an incident from yester evening when on the road, my counterparts were flying on their wheels in the midst of a circle with four exits. It seemed like with the dying day, their hopes of getting back home was also dying. So, they were extensively pushing off their accelerators which their wheels inherited. Struggle to get to the other bank of road was exhausting. I was struck as I had to wait for others to pass in order to find a way through. I tried and failed and failed until a spokesperson came in between the jiggles in my mind. A rikshawala( trolley puller) forcing his tire on the people found a reason to help me out. “Bhaiya yeh bazaar haii, yahan aise hi chalta haii. Nhii chloge toh jam padh jayega!(O Brother, This is a bazaar, it is just supposed to be like this. If won’t move ahead, jam will occur! )”.  The reason I can predict was his generosity! 



All I gave in return was a smile. And maybe with this smile he grasped how graceful his comment was, atleast for me. I took no time to relate it with life, our dearie! 

People celebrate shopping in bazaars. No other beauty other than a beautiful women can compete with the beauty of buying new. I must confess I find a lady the most beautiful while she is engaged in buying something for herself. A little apart from the topic but this in the name of beauty! 

So damn this jam in the world. It’s oversaturated with people. It’s already done with all the accomplishments. Only improvements are what we crave for. And atleast that we must all do. No matter you are struck at anything for long. It’s exhausting you, torturing you and blaming you for all you did in the past. You try to give a no no to this. Listen to your heart. Yes, you won’t have a fortune like mine that I got something who spoke of my heart when every hope seemed dimming. You have the biggest Lantern in yourself, your heart. So, pump it for the right reason, and improve with every day that you happen to live in. If you won’t, jam will happen!