Chapter 1: The Distant Horn - Echoes of the Village
In a remote corner, untouched by the digital clamor that would soon sweep the nation, nestled a village where time was told by the bus. The year is 2000, but the villagers are still used to waking up with the sun and measure their day from the bus' arrival to their village. The roads, less traveled than today, echoed with a tranquility that allowed the distant honk of a vehicle to travel for miles, a stark contrast to the cacophony of modern cities. It was in this peaceful setting that our story begins.
Nalan, a bright-eyed eleven-year-old, stood at the threshold of adolescence, having just completed his primary schooling. He lived on a farm with his parents. The remoteness of his home meant a daily hour-long bus journey to middle school, a journey preceded by a spirited half-hour walk from his farmhouse, set deep within the embrace of the agricultural heartland. This walk became a ritual, each step measured against the distant horn of the bus, his personal herald of the day. He lived in a small village of Tamil Nadu, where bicycles were rare and motorbikes were a luxury.
But young Nalan harbored a longing, a dream as vivid as the green fields he traversed each day - he desired a bicycle. It was a secret he guarded closely, hesitant to burden his father, a man of simple means whose life revolved around farming and cattle rearing.
Chapter 2: The Scholar's Secret Agony
Nalan possessed an inquisitive mind, a gift for keen observation, and a discipline that belied his age. School, for him, was more than just a place of learning; it was a refuge, a sweet escape from the demanding farm work that his father always had waiting. His dedication to learning was evident in his consistent academic achievements, invariably securing a place among the top three in his class. Such was the faith of his history teacher, a devoted educator, that he would often award Nalan full marks even before casting a glance at his examination papers. He trusted him more than anything.
Yet, despite the accolades and the effortless academic success, Nalan remained restless. The intellectual arrogance that often accompanies brilliance never found fertile ground in his heart. His true preoccupation, his secret torment, was the absence of a bicycle, a void that no amount of scholastic achievement could fill.
He shared the last bench in the classroom with his two closest confidants, Mithun and Subash. Subash, the earnest and meticulous one, excelled in mathematics and harbored a deep fascination for computer games. His fortune was that of a government employee, able to purchase a computer for his son. Nalan would patiently listen to Subash's animated narrations of conquering levels in Super Mario, stories that, while entertaining, did little to ignite his own passions.
Mithun, affectionately known as "Babloo," was a jovial and carefree soul, blessed with a comfortable life thanks to his family's thriving business. He would often regale them with tales of exotic holidays and the latest movies, stories that Nalan would acknowledge with a polite smile, his mind elsewhere. What truly captured Nalan's imagination were the gleaming bicycles owned by his friends - Subash's reliable Hero Vogue and Mithun's adventurous MTBTX mountain bike. Whenever the opportunity arose, Nalan would eagerly borrow them, savoring the fleeting taste of freedom on two wheels.
Though Nalan never explicitly voiced his yearning, his friends, with the intuitive understanding that only true companions possess, sensed the depth of his unacknowledged desire. They would let him enjoy riding their bicycles to alleviate the pain in him.
Chapter 3: The Bus Stop Sprint - A Test of Speed and Dreams
On rare occasions, Nalan's father would spare time from his farm to drop him off at the bus stop on his trusty moped, a small, sputtering motorcycle. More often, however, Nalan found himself engaged in a daily race against the clock, his heart pounding in anticipation as the distant sound of the approaching bus served as his starting gun. He runs a 400-meter sprint to get to the bus.
He literally runs a 400-meter race as his aural sensors are complemented by visual sensors. Yes, the sound of the horn of the bus increases along with the visuals of the bus taking a sharp right turn at the four-way junction. The sight was mostly witnessed by Nalan from almost half a kilometre away. He sprints and reaches the bus with heavy breath. This daily ritual was a test of endurance and agility, honing his senses to the rhythm of the village. He is disciplined to reach the bus stop on time, but the bus was never as per the schedule, sometimes late, more often earlier.
The difficulties that Nalan faced were blessings in disguise.
The hardships of his daily life, however, were not without their silver linings. His constant sprints had unwittingly transformed him into a formidable athlete, a fact that was gloriously confirmed when he triumphed in the school's 100m and 200m races. The victories felt sweet, yet they were a stark reminder of what he truly craved - a set of wheels of his own, a symbol of independence and the ability to chart his own course. As the saying goes, there is always goodness in each difficulty.
Months turned into a year, and Nalan progressed into the seventh grade, his hopes of acquiring a bicycle remaining stubbornly unfulfilled. He found himself continuing the same old routine, the familiar sprints and the occasional, gratefully accepted lifts from sympathetic villagers, his spirit undeterred but yearning.
Chapter 4: A Festival of Hope and a Shadow of Disappointment
One fateful day in school, the monotony of village life was interrupted by an exciting announcement. Mithun, bubbling with enthusiasm, shared news of an upcoming cycle competition, a highlight of the Pongal festival celebrations, a significant event in South India. He proudly declared that his father was playing a pivotal role in organizing the event, alongside local politicians.
Subash, ever eager for a challenge, enthusiastically proclaimed his intention to participate. Mithun, equally excited, voiced his own plans to join the race. But amidst the excitement, a shadow of disappointment fell upon Nalan, his eyes betraying a mix of grief and suppressed longing. It was obvious that he wanted to participate but could not because he didn't have a cycle of his own.
He quietly accepted his fate, masking his emotions with a forced smile. He asked Mithun if he might at least be allowed to witness the event, considering that Mithun's father was one of the organizers. Mithun, ever generous, readily agreed, promising to ensure Nalan's presence at the much-anticipated race. Nalan was happy as Mithun promised to take him to the race.
That evening, the walk back from the bus stop seemed longer, each step heavy with unspoken thoughts. The fact that Nalan was a great athlete was because of his struggling to catch the bus and get back home before it becomes dark.
Nalan’s athletic prowess was a consequence of his daily struggles, the hurried morning sprints to catch the elusive bus and the evening race against the encroaching darkness. Without a watch, he would be lost if he missed the bus.
Chapter 5: Ghosts in the Twilight and Manifestation in the Moonlight
Growing up in a village also meant living with the haunting stories of ghosts, spun by grandmothers and his cousins, tales that painted the night with eerie possibilities.
The stories grandma speaks about are fire-spitting ghosts, child-eating ghosts, ghosts that follow you for chicken and mutton smells which one carries along. Like thousands and thousands of Gods in India, ghosts too had many forms. All those ghosts ensured that Nalan better walk or run fast otherwise they would climb over his shoulders or walk along with him and touch his head slightly or make some creepy sound and make him scared and laugh at him. He bettered his athletic abilities to save himself from his grandma’s ghosts. Nalan would run to protect himself from his grandma's stories.
That night, sleep eluded Nalan. He tossed and turned, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts centered around the upcoming cycle race. A nervous flutter danced in his stomach, a mixture of chemical reactions fuelling his anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to calm his racing thoughts. In the tranquil darkness of his home, illuminated only by the soft glow of a flickering candle, he found a sense of serenity. The absence of electricity, the lack of distractions that plague modern life, allowed him to delve deeper into his own imagination. His dinners were also candlelight dinners only, so he found a sense of relaxation.
It was his ability to escape reality that brought so much calmness to him. He had developed a strong imagination due to the lack of distractions, unlike the modern world.
Every story he hears from his school friends and people around had his own characterisation and visualisation. He was lucky enough to visualise rustically in the way he enjoyed. He heard of Titanic Hollywood movie so many times and he must have had his own Jack and Rose which only he knows how they were. I’m sure they must be more handsome and more elegant than what we actually had seen.
With no radio or television, Nalan's imagination was his playground. Every story he heard transformed into a vivid mental movie, populated by characters and scenarios uniquely his own. He would hear stories from friends and visualise by himself.
As he lay on the floor of his small thatched-roof hut, his family asleep nearby, he closed his eyes and began to visualise. He saw himself at the race, astride an old, borrowed bicycle, pushing his athletic stamina to its absolute limit, navigating the challenging course, and ultimately crossing the finish line as the undisputed victor.
A genuine smile graced his lips, and tears welled up in his eyes as he experienced the imagined triumph. It was in that moment, under the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the damaged thatched roof, that Nalan understood the potent power of visualisation, the seed of manifestation that lay dormant within him. He was lucky to have a moonlight dinners as well.
Chapter 6: A Blush and a Bicycle
Each passing day brought the race closer, and with each passing night, Nalan faithfully replayed the scene of his imagined victory, imbuing it with greater detail and conviction. His parents and friends noticed a change in him, a newfound joy that radiated from within. They saw happiness in him, which they had not seen before.
Mithun, ever the inquisitive one, playfully teased Nalan, asking if his newfound happiness stemmed from a romantic encounter. "Bro, what happened? Did the girl whom you like say anything to you? Did she speak or cross you?" Nalan replied with a blush.
Indeed, there was another source of Nalan's inner joy, a secret he guarded with as much fervor as his longing for a bicycle. Her name was Indhu, a captivating girl in his class whose presence illuminated his world. He liked seeing her during breaks and morning assembly in the school. Indhu was like a beacon of light, her eyes sparkling even behind her spectacles. Just a glimpse of her was enough to send Nalan into a blissful reverie. She was calm, sensible, and studious. Her charismatic smile was infectious.
Indhu, being from a privileged family, commutes to the school in a separate autorickshaw. Her father, Anand, was a renowned doctor in that locality, known for his compassion and celebrated like God by the locals for his helping nature, attending to patients even in odd hours. She inherited all her father’s traits.
Whenever someone talked about her, Nalan felt a pleasant pain in his chest. She was another reason for his sleepless nights at times. He had never told her how he felt about her nor with his friends. He believed they had a connection from a past life, karmic connections. He was sure of it because they had the same color pencil and lunch bag. He didn't know that their parents had bought them from the same shop. How innocent he was, LoL.
Sometimes, he would trick Subash into letting him take him home on his bicycle. Since Subash was bored of riding the cycle regularly, he was comfortable being a pillion rider. Nalan would pedal like crazy, and Subash would warn him not to hit anyone. Poor Subash didn't know that Nalan was pedalling fast to chase the auto-rickshaw that Indhu took home from school. Nalan would take advantage of speed bumps. As the auto slowed down, Nalan wouldn't use the brakes, giving Subash a bumpy ride. Each speed bump was a chance to have glimpses of Indhu. Time seemed to slow down, and everything around him disappeared. He felt a cool breeze on his face for every glimpse of her; it was indeed worth pedalling his heart out.
Chapter 7: The Carnival of Wheels and a Spark of Hope
The race day dawned, bathed in the golden light of a holiday morning. Nalan, energized after a night of deep sleep and vivid dreams, eagerly informed his parents about the race and hurried to leave. His mother, amused by his enthusiasm, questioned his haste, but he simply smiled and declared, "You never know, I may come back with a trophy!" After a quick breakfast of two small pieces of Idli (rice cake), he set off towards the bus stop, his heart pounding with anticipation.
As he traveled, he was curious and looked fat. Again he heard the bus honking from a distance, he sprinted towards the bus. After an hour-long journey, he reached the destination where the cycle race was going to happen.
His bus journeys are always interesting too. He listens to many stories of politics, gossips, at times he witnesses quarrels and small fights too. But the conductor of the bus always shares his strong opinion on the government policies, Indian economy, world economy, geopolitical scenarios, achievements of sports personalities and board exam results of renowned schools in his state. Nalan listens to such stories daily, and his general knowledge and awareness was increased substantially.
He arrived at the event and looked for Mithun and Subash. He was surprised to see more friends from school, all with their own bicycles. The event area was decorated with loudspeakers, happy faces, and political flags. It felt like a carnival because it was part of the Pongal festival. Everyone was signing up to participate. Nalan quickly registered his name for the race. Mithun sarcastically asked if he thought it was a running race. Nalan replied with his usual smile.
Raju, a friend from Indhu's class, was also there. Nalan liked Raju because he is a caring friend. Raju too respected Nalan for his academic excellence and kind nature. Also, he had heard about the history teacher who gave Nalan full marks without even reading his answer sheets.
The announcement for the first round of heats came, and Nalan's heart started racing. He didn't want his name to be called. Luckily, his name wasn't called for the first heat, nor were Mithun's or Subash's. Nalan started to worry because his friends' names weren't called either. He had a plan: he would borrow Mithun's or Subash's bicycle after their heats so he could participate in the race. He felt confused and didn't know what to do. But then, Raju's name was called last. Nalan felt relieved and happy. Raju finished the heat but didn't make it to the next round. Nalan didn't want Raju to lose, but he wanted at least one of his friends to finish before his heats so he could borrow their bicycle. To his surprise, Raju offered Nalan his bicycle unasked and encouraged him to win the race.
Chapter 8: The Crossroads of Choice
For the second heat, the names were announced. By fate, Nalan, Mithun, and Subash were all in the same heat. They reached the starting point, eagerly waiting for the whistle. Nalan felt nervous and excited, just like before his athletic races. He closed his eyes and imagined the race, just like he had been doing every night. The whistle blew, and they all started pedalling. The race track required them to pedal, make a U-turn after five kilometres, and finish at the starting point.
Nalan pedalled with all his might on Raju's old Hero bicycle. He saw his friends Mithun and Subash pedalling easily and keeping pace with him. As they approached the U-turn, Mithun fell, injuring his calf muscles. Nalan saw him bleeding. Nalan had many thoughts in his mind. He was confused about whether to help his friend or continue the race. Mithun understood how Nalan felt and encouraged him to keep going. Reluctantly, Nalan left his injured friend and pedalled towards the finish line.
Chapter 9: Victory's Breeze - A Vision Realized
After two more heats, the names of the finalists were announced. Nalan was one of them. He felt incredibly happy. By then, Mithun had received treatment and returned to the event. He wished Nalan good luck. Subash offered Nalan his bicycle since he didn't qualify for the finals. Nalan gratefully returned Raju's bicycle and thanked him. He quickly took Subash's bicycle and went to the starting line with the other finalists.
The whistle blew. From the start, Nalan was at top speed as this cycle in which he is familiar with in chasing Indhu. He felt the same breeze he experienced on the speed bumps. He pushed aside his romantic thoughts, sped up, made a careful U-turn, and pedalled again. He could hear the other cyclists and guess their distances because he was good at judging distances by sound, thanks to the village roads and unpredictable buses. He was sure that no one was close behind him. This gave him an adrenaline boost, and he pedalled with all his heart.
He started seeing the finish line. It was like déjà vu, living the moment he had always imagined. His manifestation had worked. He reached the finish line and was the first to finish. He cried tears of joy. His friends Mithun, Subash, and Raju hugged him and lifted him into the air. The emotions were strong, and the celebrations began. He was reliving the moment he had always visualized.
Chapter 10: Epilogue: The Dreams Unfold
But there was another surprise waiting for him. During the prize distribution, the certificate of merit for third place and the trophy were given to the second-place finisher. Nalan was confused. He thought the bigger, shinier trophy was for the winner. But fate had other plans. His name was announced as the winner of the bicycle race.
He walked onto the stage and saw his friends clapping for him. From the corner of the stage, Indhu and her father, who was also a co-sponsor of the event, appeared with two men holding a brand-new MTBTX mountain bike. It was too good to be true.
Nalan was speechless. Indhu and her father presented him with the cycle, fulfilling his long-cherished dream. Overwhelmed with joy, he felt as though he had been transported to another realm, where dreams and reality converged. In that moment, two of his deepest desires—the bicycle and Indhu—were united, creating a memory that he would treasure forever.
