
Fifty years ago when I was One Cypher (10), the one thing I loved with all my fibres was the green coloured Raleigh bicycle of our neighbour Gopalakrishnan alias Gopu aged Two Cypher (20) . Gopu was an engineering student. His father bought for him a beautiful Raleigh cycle for his 20th birthday. It’s shining handle bar, green glittering frame and sparkling wheels with spokes captivated me. What really stole my heart was the Miller brand dynamo headlight .When Gopu came riding into our compound at night the miller head light would throw a bright beam of light like the headlight of a locomotive. He was the luckiest person on earth then for me. It was to him what a baby was to its mother.
First thing he would see every morning after he woke up was his green Raleigh which he fondly named Parrot. He tied a velvet hood around the headlight to save it from scratches. Parrot brought him closer to his girlfriend Parimala the macaw. I was jealous of Gopu not because he got beautiful Parimala as his girlfriend but because he possessed this charming cycle.
I recalled how for the last three years I was pestering my father to buy a bicycle for me. He kept repeating that I should attain first rank in the class to become eligible for a cycle knowing very well that such a thing would never happen. Once I told Gopu that I was ready to clean and polish his cycle everyday provided he agreed to allow me to ride his cycle up and down our street just once a week. Over jealous Gopu turned down my generous offer even though Parimala pressed him to agree to my proposal. “If my cycle gets just one scratch I will get a heart attack" he said.
But in a week's time something bigger than mere scratch was inflicted on his beloved cycle when one dark night he collided head on with a bullock cart while returning from a night show. He providentially escaped with scratches but his cycle unfortunately suffered multiple fractures.
A father would not have grieved for his injured son as much as Gopu did for his cycle. The cycle lay at a repair shop for a week in a coma. When it came back after discharge Gopu was upset. His cycle was far from its old self. After test riding he was unhappy. “Parrot has lost its good looks and smoothness. I don't want it anymore. I will get my father to buy a new cycle. If you want you can take it. But you have to pay me 100. You can do it in three instalments”
I ran to my father to convey Gopu's offer. My father gave me one long look of angry refusal with sparks in his eyes. I just withdrew from the scene walking backward.
Though I bought not one but three cycles, two motorcycles and even a car when I grew up and got a good job, the unfulfilled boyhood desire to go to school riding my own cycle still burns unextinguished in a corner of my heart.