My best days were spent in Nasik. More on that later. What's more important is, I was the champion toddler of the tricycle races (so much for modesty!). I was good competition even to five year olds.
Bangalore. I got my first proper bicycle when I was six. Its another matter that I did not master it untill two years later. But when I finally did, we understood each other perfectly. She understood my command at my slightest movement, I understood how to explore what she had to offer. Well, we were GREAT companions! She was the mistress of my afternoons, my evenings, and when the treachorous school was off, even my mornings. (Nights were utilised for sleeping. No other option with Mom wailing "Sleeeppp!!! Oh thee, the violator-of-my-peace! Sleeepp!!")
She made me capable of flying, strong rushes of wind in my hair was something that became perennial. She made me feel like a teenager already, independent and mobile. We spent two blissful years together. My magenta bicycle, I love you and I miss you! :')
When I turned ten, my father gifted me a new bike. A big, strong, red bull. Great looks, great features. My brand new Hero Siren. Indicators, headlights, speedometer, heck, even a number plate! (That was just a plastic sticker though, but enough to boost my vanity). It was not suited for my petite frame, more of a mountain bike, but I handled it well. It was my choice and I was proud of it. I was the envy of every other kid.
( -to be continued)