The 1st Ride

How awesome it felt when you raced the wind.... against it.... or with it.... with air swiftly flowing by your ears.... the drums playing in your head.... every turn you took made you feel as if in a chase of a movie..... You do not have any 500 cc bike or a 2500 cc car.... you have a bicycle... your 1st one.... a bit rusted... a bit old.... but its yours.... you peddle faster and faster and faster.... Your lungs are failing you open your mouth for a gasp of air... your legs are tiring.... the veins seems to fall out but you wont slow down....  in your mind you think that no one can catch you... you are invincible and then on one turn.... thud you fall.... :P
how easy was it??? I remember my 1st cycle.... it didn't have any gears.... it was a tad bit rusted...  i was pestering my dad to get me cycle... in an academic household everything was marks and you want something then deserve it.... my father's moto.... "deserve before desire". One fine day my dad came with this rusted old cycle for me and I instantaneously fell in love with it.... It was so simple then.... You desire something and you got it and you were happy.... There were no parallel dimensions.... so alternate options...  no paradoxes to account for.... no brand equity or showoff....I didn't even know what show off meant.... being from an humble family I never learned that....
That night i slept with sole thought of it... Next day when i came back from school i would show it to everyone.... I was rejuvenated with joy.... over flowing with happiness.... At that time it didn't matter to me what cycle my neighbour had.... or this is 2nd hand how can I show it to anyone... I didn't know materials shows reflection to what we are capable of.... actually to be truthful none of my friends care... they were all happy to see my happy.... even those who didn't have a cycle....
then came time to ride.... there were supporter tyres around the cycle.... My dad would come and take me to park to learn after his tea.... I had no complains from him... neither did we argue on how to do things... He would hold me and I would peddle.... and then he would leave me... but i knew he would run to catch me if i would fall.... that support that hand that simple knowledge of him being around was enough to embark courage to me....
i would come home... with bruises.... every day... each one would have a new story to tell... I would force my mother to sit with me and i would tell her story of each cut as if i am a knight who was essaying an impossible trial.... I fell daily but i always got up.... the enthusiasm to learn gave me way... I feel that it is missing now when i guess i need it most... with every fall i had this new zeal to get up and cycle again... with every bruise i felt the urge of commitment.... I was not afraid of failure... i tried and tried and tried and then one day.... after a week my dad asked "No cuts no bruise arnt you going to cycle...." i told him proudly "I learned how to cycle"
now why i told this story? each one of you who would take time to read this have lived this.... there is nothing special to my story.... so go to your own story.... and see the time... When you had zeal hope and commitment.... when you fell but knew how to get up... when you were not some cry baby but rather thought ourself as some knight who was capable of anything and everything.... that seem to be lost... that hope seem to be gone... redefine it... find your pillars your mom and your dad.... find your friends with whom you don't feel jealous... you will find the courage to fight all.... you will find the dedication to achieve all.... and commitment to never give up.... we knew how to... we have just forgotten....