The Sunday morning approached 9 and Mr Rao was off to the vegetable market on his bicycle. His legs moved the pedals in a calm manner, it seemed they had never stopped moving the pedals almost their whole lives.
People in the neighbourhood knew of Mr Rao’s love for the bicycle, but little did they expect him to use it for going to work. Mr Rao had a car, an expensive one, but once he shifted to an office around six kilometres from home, he spared no time to change his means of travelling.
The bicycle was old but well maintained. It was a roadster bicycle with a twenty-two-inch frame. It belonged to Mr Rao’s father, who had bought it back in the day when bicycles used to be a valuable possession. His father was quite proud to hand it over to his son.
There were concerns by the near ones of the day an accident might occur on the roads filled with rushing vehicles driven by impatient minds and how the car was the safer option. But Mr Rao wanted the two long narrow wheels to continue moving and he wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible.
Meanwhile the people, a bit surprised, would look on, at the man in work clothes riding the old bicycle in this day and age.
Written by Anuran Chatterji
Early Morning Memories 