Cycling Stories


April 7, 2020


Her bike went uphill

When she disappeared,

I knew what mother

Would say

But this wasn’t

A simple play,

It was a beginning

of a love affair,

So, I entered the unknown.

I was nine, on my cycle

I rode all day,

My horn made a merry sound

And I flaunted it.

But this was no time

For horns and disk brakes,

The wheels and pedals

Helped me displace

And change position.

I searched for her

Wherever my eyes could see,

Slope guided me and

I hoped she was near.

Sun was beginning to set

My limbs were tired

And I needed her,

I was desperate.

Then, the brakes failed me

(I thought) and I tried,

But the bike led me downhill

And I collapsed.

Blood poured off

The empty space,

My teeth shattered and

I groaned for the pain

Was too much to bear.

Until out of nowhere

She appeared

With her anxious feet.

I stood up and

Wiped my face,

She asked me

If I was okay,

She was pretty

She had a golden face.

She kept inquiring

If I was alright,

If my home was that way

I didn’t want it to end.

I walked beside her

With my broken brakes,

She carried my cycle,

And her hair waved

As she brought me back

From the unknown.

Kartikeya Srivastava lives in India, where he struggles to write at night and to ride during the day. He might find a balance, someday.
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