Reflections of a bicyclist-4
I joined Indian Institute of Science (IISc) for my Ph.D. Although the IISc campus like IIT, Kanpur, was a compact one, I still found that the two farthest points of my interest were a kilometer away. This was done more easily on a bicycle than on one’s feet.
For the first few months, I was bike-less for the first time in my life. That was 1980. I was awaiting ever more hopefully the arrival of my bike from Kanpur. Once it was confirmed lost, I decided to buy a new one. For the first time my father considered a Hero for by this time the Raleigh had gone out of production, the makers of Hero were well on their way to becoming the biggest bicycle manufacturers in the world and they had done enough to earn my father’s respect. My father now was pouring scorn over the Hercules! I took his advice and in fact he came with me to AS Char street to buy me the new Hero. I think those were still, days before the ATBs. My new black Hero cost me Rs. 400.
Like in Kanpur, in Bangalore too, a few students switched to bicycles on seeing me acquire one. Although my parents lived in Bangalore, I preferred to stay in the hostel. After two years of hostel at IIT, Kanpur and the amazing freedom it gave, I don’t think I could ever again adjust to life in the old style. I used to go home every weekend, typically on Saturday evenings on my bicycle and return on Monday mornings. The bike rides home were typically 12 kms each way and not exciting. To make them eventful, I would occasionally time myself and try to go faster than the previous time. I brought the time down to 32 minutes, which I declared as a world record. Now this time had to be broken! I thought long and came to the conclusion that this could be broken only if the slowest part of the journey could be speeded up! The slowest part was of course the Windsor Manor up slope (Windsor Manor was then just putting up its overhead bridge). To set a new world record, I had to speed up this part which I did huffing and puffing up the slope at high speed standing up on the pedals and throwing the bike from side to side as I pedaled. I reduced the time by a couple of minutes or so. On other occasions, I rode long distances without holding the handle bar. Those days you could do all this as the traffic was not heavy. I once went all the way home from the junction of Brigade Road and Magrath Road without holding the handle bar! I took the various turns by shifting my weight one way or the other. My handle was steady and I was lucky not to encounter traffic round the corners.
Around this time, I cultivated my other great passion- that for movies. At that time Blue Diamond theatre on MG Road (this theatre has been most unfortunately demolished) used to show some really good movies. These were all Hollywood or British movies- low budget, less heard of movies, but really good. They would be reviewed in the Indian Express every Sunday. I used to go with friends (some of them women) for the late night show on my bicycle. I remember on one occasion having a punctured tyre, late one night after the show was over. I could do little to get it repaired at 1 AM. So I came riding back with my friends on the flat tyre. A nail had pierced through the tyre and during the long ride had torn the whole length of the tube, which I replaced the next day.
At this time I discovered that a little boy next door to where my parents lived shared his birthday with me. This boy’s mother was a school teacher and I suspect she held me up as some kind of a role model for the poor boy. I am sure he secretly hated me, because he was not too good at his studies, while the only thing I ever did decently was study. She sent birthday gifts to me every year through her son, who was rapidly growing up into a lean and sullen boy. He was secretly disobedient, but the mother made a show of how her son was so much like me. In hind sight, it is a bit touching. While I am by no means short on self esteem, I nevertheless, refuse to accept that it should be worth anybody’s while to try and emulate me. The boy failed his tenth standard. This was a serious blow to a mother who wanted her son to do a Ph.D like me. The boy was largely staying home and occasionally trying to do some odd jobs. At this time, my mother suggested that I should gift him my bicycle to help him get around his job. I gladly did this and my mother gifted me Rs. 5000=00 to buy my own first vehicle, a TVS 50 carrying the number CAJ 5635. By then (1983) I had also married one of my movie-going, bicycle riding friends. I spent the next few years riding my TVS 50. By this time, MTBs had entered the market in a big way and I had been wanting to have one of them. My wife and I went to AS Char Street to the same shop where I had bought my earlier bicycle and I bought a Hero Ladies Ranger. This cost me Rs. 1100=00. I have this bike even today. Around this time, I became interested in making my own bicycles.
I joined Indian Institute of Science (IISc) for my Ph.D. Although the IISc campus like IIT, Kanpur, was a compact one, I still found that the two farthest points of my interest were a kilometer away. This was done more easily on a bicycle than on one’s feet.
For the first few months, I was bike-less for the first time in my life. That was 1980. I was awaiting ever more hopefully the arrival of my bike from Kanpur. Once it was confirmed lost, I decided to buy a new one. For the first time my father considered a Hero for by this time the Raleigh had gone out of production, the makers of Hero were well on their way to becoming the biggest bicycle manufacturers in the world and they had done enough to earn my father’s respect. My father now was pouring scorn over the Hercules! I took his advice and in fact he came with me to AS Char street to buy me the new Hero. I think those were still, days before the ATBs. My new black Hero cost me Rs. 400.
Like in Kanpur, in Bangalore too, a few students switched to bicycles on seeing me acquire one. Although my parents lived in Bangalore, I preferred to stay in the hostel. After two years of hostel at IIT, Kanpur and the amazing freedom it gave, I don’t think I could ever again adjust to life in the old style. I used to go home every weekend, typically on Saturday evenings on my bicycle and return on Monday mornings. The bike rides home were typically 12 kms each way and not exciting. To make them eventful, I would occasionally time myself and try to go faster than the previous time. I brought the time down to 32 minutes, which I declared as a world record. Now this time had to be broken! I thought long and came to the conclusion that this could be broken only if the slowest part of the journey could be speeded up! The slowest part was of course the Windsor Manor up slope (Windsor Manor was then just putting up its overhead bridge). To set a new world record, I had to speed up this part which I did huffing and puffing up the slope at high speed standing up on the pedals and throwing the bike from side to side as I pedaled. I reduced the time by a couple of minutes or so. On other occasions, I rode long distances without holding the handle bar. Those days you could do all this as the traffic was not heavy. I once went all the way home from the junction of Brigade Road and Magrath Road without holding the handle bar! I took the various turns by shifting my weight one way or the other. My handle was steady and I was lucky not to encounter traffic round the corners.
Around this time, I cultivated my other great passion- that for movies. At that time Blue Diamond theatre on MG Road (this theatre has been most unfortunately demolished) used to show some really good movies. These were all Hollywood or British movies- low budget, less heard of movies, but really good. They would be reviewed in the Indian Express every Sunday. I used to go with friends (some of them women) for the late night show on my bicycle. I remember on one occasion having a punctured tyre, late one night after the show was over. I could do little to get it repaired at 1 AM. So I came riding back with my friends on the flat tyre. A nail had pierced through the tyre and during the long ride had torn the whole length of the tube, which I replaced the next day.
At this time I discovered that a little boy next door to where my parents lived shared his birthday with me. This boy’s mother was a school teacher and I suspect she held me up as some kind of a role model for the poor boy. I am sure he secretly hated me, because he was not too good at his studies, while the only thing I ever did decently was study. She sent birthday gifts to me every year through her son, who was rapidly growing up into a lean and sullen boy. He was secretly disobedient, but the mother made a show of how her son was so much like me. In hind sight, it is a bit touching. While I am by no means short on self esteem, I nevertheless, refuse to accept that it should be worth anybody’s while to try and emulate me. The boy failed his tenth standard. This was a serious blow to a mother who wanted her son to do a Ph.D like me. The boy was largely staying home and occasionally trying to do some odd jobs. At this time, my mother suggested that I should gift him my bicycle to help him get around his job. I gladly did this and my mother gifted me Rs. 5000=00 to buy my own first vehicle, a TVS 50 carrying the number CAJ 5635. By then (1983) I had also married one of my movie-going, bicycle riding friends. I spent the next few years riding my TVS 50. By this time, MTBs had entered the market in a big way and I had been wanting to have one of them. My wife and I went to AS Char Street to the same shop where I had bought my earlier bicycle and I bought a Hero Ladies Ranger. This cost me Rs. 1100=00. I have this bike even today. Around this time, I became interested in making my own bicycles.
posted by Vishnu | 11:06 AM
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