Please meet my Bicycle Angel


Please meet my #BicycleAngel

My Dad initiated the love of cycling in me.

He brought me bicycles nearly every two or three years, as I outgrew them so fast. My three-geared bicycle (a “Chopper”) was the first of its kind in our tree shaded neighborhood (Almeida Park, Bandra west). Kids from around flocked to my building to see me ride, like a peacock preening his feathers I must have felt as proud then, in retrospect I think.

I remember dad taking me to the bicycle shop in our neighborhood, Kohinoor Cycles, Hill road. Sometimes to repair punctures, sometimes to buy new bikes. Something as simple as filling air in the tyres was a fascinating weekly ritual.

Ball bearings, shiny steel balls that rolled so easily, faster than my glass marbles, was another enchanting discovery. The discarded ball bearings I would take home and clean them with soap and play endlessly with them. I cleaned my bicycle myself every week, sometimes spitting into the cloth to shine the spokes. The sun, and moon, would smile brilliantly off them like 24 carat gold on a maiden.

Love to my Dad. My #BicycleAngel

Happy Fathers’ Day to all.

Photo: My dad on our “Chopper” 🙂 1970s.






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