The Cycle

*was to be posted on 5th February

Yesterday, I fulfilled my long cherished dream of becoming a pizza delivery girl. I was in mood for a solitary pizza party, so I got myself a personal pizza from Domino’s. I was commuting using my cycle, so I had to fasten the box at the rear end of my cycle, which also fastened the cooling process for the pizza, as I made my way to my accommodation.

I seldom find time alone for myself these days. In fact I have been beginning to get some, for the past two-three days, so it feels heavenly. Yesterday, however was no one such day, as I came home to my pizza party and well, my roommate, that I didn’t even bother offering my pizza to.

So I made some small talk. Tried to understand her oversimplified life a bit more, while my mind focused on ravaging the tiny pizza with the tastiest marinara, chicken and bread cooked in cheesy perfection.


When I don’t use my cycle, for self delivery purposes, I tend to park it on open streets, while getting dinner on my way back from work, in the hope that someone takes it away for good. Nah, just kidding. My cycle is so far damaged, you’d end up paying more for the repairs than you would have saved, by stealing it. I guess that’s the kind of stuff that goes into making shopping items ‘a steal’?

Two days back, I had parked my cycle, while picking up food from a paratha eatery. To my surprise, when I came back to it, I saw a woman trying to drag it away. This situation was more funny than horrifying, because

1. The woman was decently dressed. Upper middle class type.
2. She must have been around 30.
3. She was a mom, cause her baby boy was trying to climb the flight of stairs that led to the restaurant.

I was intrigued and amused. I went up to the lady and told her it’s mine. I saw that her husband was behind the wheels of a rather exquisite car that he was trying to park in the exact place where my cycle stood. She looked back sheepishly with an “oh!”.

Quite frankly, I don’t think it’s anyone’s business trying to drag my cycle away to park their vehicle. It wouldn’t have been difficult to find a better location. I definitely could have raised objections, except that, there was way too less damn I could have given, because

1. I have a love hate relationship with my cycle.
2. I had a hot paratha packed in my hand, waiting to be savored the moment I got home.
3. The tiny boy was as eager to savor the paratha to be served in the restaurant.
4. The incident was probably embarrassing enough for the the couple. I mean, it was like a woman getting out of a Ferrari to displace a trash can, so that the car can be parked there. Quite a juxtaposition.


My cycle plays an integral part in far too many incidents that have happened in the recent past. I had a minor accident and got ripped jeans as a result. So I guess I saved 2000 bucks.

I also took a guy on a ride and dropped him to the gate, about 2 km away (it’s another story that my cycle just broke down a day later and I had to get the tire tube changed). But hey, it upped my coolness quotient by millions.

It’s been a great pain in the ass, quite literally. But I think I’d like to enjoy the ride while it lasts.


Since, it’s become such an important part of my conversations with people, I want to give my cycle a name. It’s as erratic as my other cycle and by extension, women, so I have decided that it’s a woman. To try and make the name sound like the brand name and variant number, it’s going to be called Katana (which is also a Japanese sword name, so it sounds really cool).


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