Tales Of My Rides
Bicycle can be a thoroughly ridiculous form of transport, but a thoroughly beautiful one. Handle, Paddle, Paddling, Deep Breathing, Air, More Air, Woshhh.... [Music] Five months ago I started paddling my bicycle in the evening through the farms, the habit I have maintained till today. I usually paddle from a point A which generally is the southernmost edge of the village to a point B which lies right on the bridge of the main canal known by the name Ramala wali Nahar via a road which goes along the smaller canal, khaansh. I generally stop at point C. Point C is a place somewhere between point A and point B, I stop there to observe Bainya’s nests hanging upright down on a tree. While riding, I generally think about a point D. Point D is nothing in particular, but an imaginary place, somewhere between infinity to minus infinity in the universe (I do not care if it happens to be out of universe) which I generally visualized - setting sun, solitary atmosphere, tall laconic palm ...