Prisoner of the past

It is said that our present is the sum total of our past actions and decisions. I had a first-hand experience of this recently when I had to visit a relative. As hard and long as I tried to book a cab or an auto, I could not. The drivers on the booking apps kept cancelling and the auto drivers either refused to go to the destination or quoted an exorbitant fare for the ride.

How I wished I had the confidence to ride our two-wheeler now.

During my college days in Bombay (now Mumbai), I rode around the city on my two-wheeler, a geared one at that, with the wind in my hair. This was way back in the early 1980s. A young girl, riding a scooter with gears, was an uncommon sight back then even in the city of Bombay. Many heads turned in admiration, surprise and awe at signals, at parking lots in theatres or other public places. I enjoyed the freedom, the confidence and the attention.

I moved to Bengaluru after marriage and lost the practice of riding a two-wheeler. I was thrilled when when we bought our first gearless bike for my daughter to be able to go to college. I thought I too would get a chance to ride it and feel the same sense of freedom and joy that only a ride on a bike gives you. It took me back to my college days.

Since I was rusty, having not ridden a two-wheeler for so many years, I needed practice to get the confidence. My daughter picked up the tricks very easily. I struggled. I was not confident in making the turns. The way other riders negotiated turns, and even roads, going zig-zag through any opening they could find in the traffic, scared the wits out of me.

Once when I was negotiating a turn, I slipped and lost balance over a speed-breaker. I fell to my left, the bike skidding under me.

That shook me up. As the bike was a new one, bought after a lot of hardships, I was more concerned about the damage caused to the bike than the injury that I had suffered. That day, right there, I decided that I would not ride a bike anymore. I gave up!

My family made fun of me. I could ride in Mumbai but Bengaluru roads were out of my league, they mocked. But the fall had shaken my confidence.

Today, I regret that decision of giving up. Bengaluru traffic scares me, but I sometimes feel I should have mustered enough courage to get on the bike again. Maybe, I would have mastered the art of negotiating through the traffic.

Now, I am dependent on rides booked through apps and at the mercy of the whims of cab and auto drivers. I hesitate to go out. I feel imprisoned in my present, by my decision taken that day in the past.