Here is another story from the Burlington Contest. Purba Nandi shares her childhood memories of riding lessons and the special bond she had with her Baba.
“Tiya! See, my photo with you on Facebook got 30 likes!” Baba said, sounding quite excited.
‘Fathers get happiness from such small things,’ I thought and smiled. My father is Mr Pratap Nandi – a proud Bengali gentleman, who served the country in the armed forces a few years back. He now runs his own business and loves spending time with us – his family.
“Really?” I took the phone from him to check. “Do you remember I taught you how to open a Facebook account when I was in the 3rd standard?” I said with pride.
“Was it?” He tried to recall. “Honestly, I don’t remember,” he said taking the phone back from me.
“Well, you might not, but I do, as there was something else special about that day”…
5 YEARS EARLIER
“Tiya…Tiya!” Baba shouted from the living room. “How does one open an account in Facebook?” he asked.
“Just sign in,” I answered as I walked into the living room.
“Are you sure?” he sounded sceptical. “I mean, it could be fake, couldn’t it? How can I give all my details to a random app?”
“Don’t be silly Baba!” I tried to reassure him. “It is a secure app.”
“Secure App? How do you know?”
“You see, the website is ‘htpps’ – which means it is secured as it has ‘s’” I explained. “Besides, what would someone do with your profile details?”
“How do you know all this?” He asked, quite surprised by my knowledge.
“Yesterday I learnt about it in our classes,” I said, taking the TV remote from my dad.
“Oh…okay,” Baba said, but from the look in his eyes, then and there I realised, he was not convinced. He headed to the kitchen, perhaps to double-check with Maa.
“Just a minute! You called me to help, didn’t you? And now you don’t trust me?” I protested, rolling my eyes.
Baba smiled and said, “I knew children are fast these days, but you are…”
I turned off the TV and followed him to the kitchen.
“Baba, you promised to get me something today,” I said as innocently as I could, with my puppy dog eyes.
“Yes, my dear. It’s on the table – go and check,” Baba said, still trying to figure out social media with my Maa.
“Really?” I was somewhat excited yet not convinced. I stayed where I was.
“Tiya! What is this? Go and see what your father brought. Don’t disturb us!” Maa shouted, perhaps confused about Facebook herself.
I knew very well when Maa shouts, the next step would be worse, so I quickly went towards the table and found out my ‘surprise’ – which did not surprise me at all. It was … COMPLAN POWDER.
“Seriously?” I said, peaking in the kitchen.
“Sima, wait for a second. Let me talk to her first,” Baba said, realising my disappointment.
“Tell me, what do you want?” Baba asked.
“Promise me you won’t be mad?”
“I won’t. Tell me.”
“A…a…a bicycle,” I said, covering my face with my hands.
“No way!” Baba said, turning back towards the kitchen.
“Please, all my friends have one.” I pleaded with folded hands, which as a matter of fact, I don’t usually do – but the situation demanded this adjustment to my pride.
“What will you do with a bicycle?” Maa asked. (My mother needs to get involved in every small thing, you see.)
“Ride it,” was my prompt reply.
“Well…” my father paused, and then, to my delight, said, “Okay” picking up the car keys.
“Are you out of your mind?” Maa screamed.
“She is just a child, Sima”
“No, you are a child here, giving her everything she wants,” she continued, “By the way, what about the necklace I asked for?”
“Sima, you are being unreasonable. Let’s go!” Baba called me to join him for the drive.
I jumped with joy as I followed him.
An hour or two later, I found myself in the backyard with my AVON bicycle.
“Put your feet on the pedals and your hands on the handlebar, properly,” Baba instructed.
“Baba! Don’t leave me! I’ll fall!” I shouted, loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear – a reaction to my realisation that riding is not easy as it looked.
“Well, if you don’t fall from a bicycle, you will never learn to ride,” Baba said, giving the cycle a gentle push. I nodded and tried hard, still scared. Baba continued, “Do you know a bicycle is a sustainable product?”
“Meaning?” I asked, turning back.
“Look straight,” my father ordered. I obeyed. He continued, “It means, it makes almost no noise, causes no air pollution, and helps reduce global warming.”
“So, is a bicycle a pollution-free mode of travel?” I asked, quite intrigued.
“Yes, it is one of the most eco-friendly forms of transportation. Each time you pedal, you are not just exercising but also helping keep the air cleaner.” And then suddenly his voice faded – I was confused – and then I heard, “There you go, my dear, you have learnt how to ride a bicycle!”
I was confused, so, I looked down. I fell down.
My father came rushing, “I shouldn’t have distracted you. You were riding so well. Come let’s go today it’s already evening.”
One evening, after a few days…
“Baba!” I called.
“What?”
“You are the best!” I said, riding my bicycle all by myself.
“I know,” he said, and laughed out loud.
AND NOW….
It all came back to me as I sat there smiling, recalling the best memories of my childhood. That, perhaps, was my first lesson to overcome hardship in life. Cycling is not just fun, it’s also a way to care for our planet. Even today, riding a bicycle – which I still do – is not just about the journey, it is about the emotions, especially the ones involving your beloved ones.
“Tiya, what is this Instagram?” my father asked rushing from the bedroom…
