The Point Where there's No Melancholy.

melancholy [mel-uh n-kol-ee]
noun

• A deep, pensive, and long-lasting sadness.

"Melancholy is incompatible with bicycling". said James E. Starrs. It's true. Stealing from the movie Premium Rush I'd be saying, "The Pedal never stops turning, can't stop. Don't want to either." Cycles have consumed a considerable amount of my time minus the last one year in college. And I've loved every moment. It started on a diwali somewhere along my second standard where I got a bicycle as an present. Ooh. I had trainer wheels. (I'm not one of those who are born with the skill you see). And the very first time I sat at it, It took me all my effort to turn the pedal through 90 degrees and make the cycle move! I turned back and asked my dad whether he believed I could do it.

It took me my 8th standard until I was allowed to take it to school everyday. By 10th I gained the confidence to ride through the main roads, alongside an auto - rickshaw, past a speeding car (Yup, Exaggeration is a part of every story narrated, why should I stop). With Rahul and Vishnu laying witness I can claim to have covered about a distance of 2 kms as fast as it would take for an auto rickshaw to cover. People have ways to vent out, and to grow up. I grew up with my cycle.

I still stuck to cycling even when I changed schools and it became more  further and remote. I remember me sitting with Hari and Athul at my house. It was a summer morning, jobless as we are were planning on a feat which surpassed our longest journey. The whole ride was 34+ Kms. We didn't know if there was a proper route. We didn't know how much time it would take. We didn't know if we'd complete it. We didn't know when to do it either. And yet we just went forward, the same day within an hours time we met again.

Note: Not actual route. Rough Sketch.

Destination Enamakkal
Distance : 34 Kms
Start : Ayanthole Grounds
Destination Markers :
1) Enamakkal
2) Thrissur Town

Step 1: Ayanthole Grounds - Enamakkal
Quite Scenic. Proper Path Unkown, Alongside a stream.

Step 2:Enamakkal  - Thrissur
Through proper Roads, pure pedal power cause the road was just straight ahead.

I've discovered a lot of places with Hari. We've seen it all. 6 a.m. 8.30 p.m. 8.45 p.m with a current cut. And then the dead bored got nothing to do bits. Creaks, Bridges, Scenic Spots, Sunsets, Highways, Pure beautiful roads (maybe not). And then I learned a lot too. Two big words associated with cycles? Brakes and Crashes. I've had my share from both of them.

Brakes.

If you have them, it's trouble, if you don't It's still trouble. Brakes are trouble. It takes time to perfect using them. Especially when your clocking 30 kmph on a highway. When you have perfect brakes, and then you panic because there's a car in front of you, your bound to either skid or lift your back wheel a few inches. Which is cool until it turns to a crash. Until it's a crash, all's cool that you do on a cycle.

Crashes.
Ripped jeans are a fashion. The one sitting in my wardrobe is a good conversation starter. Every time a person asks I'd narrate a tale of a speed breaker, pitch black and speeds of 20 kmph adding upto a ripped jeans and scratches in your thigh. I've had a fair deal of crashes. Once into an auto rickshaw whithout any brakes and only my slippers to count on. Once again into the side-view mirror of another auto. Wanna know the funny part, it's always when I went slow. I'm neither endorsing nor advising. Just counting my experience.

In the end it was all about the wind in my hair, the power in the legs, directions determined by a coin toss, and the freedom. Freedom that none other gives me. In the end it's all about me and my cycle. My freedom.

The End Of Journey. 

Arigato.

P.S If you ever wanted to browse through the only photo-documented ride of mine. Destination Enamakkal

Share your opinion and views below. I'd love to hear back from you guys. 

Memories at Sixteen

People might say
Being sixteen,
which is very very young
we don't have much to look back to.

Oh how wrong are they,
I ask weren't they young once?
Don't tell me how
different it was that once.


I got bored n senti one day
and twirled up my past.
Wondering and wishing 
why longer it didn't last.


Memories are many and 
are of different kind
some to cherish
and others left of time.


I remember of all my ol' friends
to whom daily through my heart I send,
How much i miss you guys
How i wish you were here.
But wherever you are, never mind
to my heart you'll always be near.


Never has the distance or anything else
crept past into our friendship.
They, i guess can be 
shortened by a single road trip!


I've a lot to tell about you to all
and a lot to talk to you all,
but the words i know
and the mind i have is just too short.


Thoughts are there of a 
million kind in my mind.
but to put it in a paper,
it's hard I find.


Fate as they call it
may pull  us into 4 corners.
but who said I believed in fate,
I want to burn it in a burner.


For if someone was to read
the book of fate of mine,
I'm sure he'd say the one who wrote
it sucked, "Get out of the line".


I open my mail all possible times
to check for your mail.
I know you'd be busy but I'd wish
you'd send atleast a snail mail!


The times you'd pop up
in my messenger,
I'd leave the world if I have to
like a last minute passenger.

But when I sit and with you
guys and I chat.
my mind of all times
goes blank, oh rats!


Anyway I'm sure to keep
this part of my memories
of these seeds, in my mind
i'll grow a tree.


Friends are of a hundred kind and
the way I describe they are above all.
And with each of them with
my heart i'll never fall.


But the worst part of having a 
good memory is that they are over.
Far away and long ago and it still
stays alive somewhere in the mind's lower!


-----------------------------------------------------------
Lady Narrator
27-9-10
"The night sets outside everyday and the day follows...
But the sun never rises inside my lonely soul" - Ashwin