Bicycle Memories From Childhood

I learnt riding bicycle on my own, falling, hurting myself again and again. I had stubbornly taken this challenge on myself that I would surprise my father when I would learn to ride it.

The first time I learnt to balance it and paddle my way, I didn't know there was a break to control the speed. I card my father and told him "see papa I can ride the bicycle."

As I pushed the paddle and balanced, I sped up out of excitement and fell down miserably after hitting the wall. My father ran to pick me up, my knees were bleeding profusely. I waited till the injury healed and then began practicing again but applying breaks on regular intervals to get the thrill.

Then again when I felt I am ready to ride, I called my father to see my progress. When I started riding a motorcycle was approaching towards me, I panicked and applied breaks, then fell off the cycle again hurting my elbows and knees badly. My father ran again to fetch me up and cleaned my wounds. I was crying in pain.

I resumed my bicycle practice after the wounds healed. After that I fell down from the bicycle multiple times only this time I didn't ask my father to watch over me because I took it as a promise that I won't fall in front of my father. So I learned it on my own.

Last evening when I was sitting on the stairs to terrace and reading my book, a grandfather and granddaughter duo were trying to ride bicycle. The granddaughter almost the age of 4-5, was yelling at her grandfather when she couldn't ride on her own yet the grandfather was patiently helping her to ride it.

I don't have any recollection of my time spent with my grandfather and I only know him through my father's words and his memories. If I could go back to my childhood I would have asked my father every time I rode and fall down from the bicycle.