In a recent interview with a newspaper in India, the owner of a cycle rental shop bemoaned the lack of customers who want to rent cycles, this being an age when everyone wants to ride a motorcycle or a scooter instead.

Naturally, my thoughts went back to the time decades ago when my elder sister and I were trying to learn how to balance ourselves on a cycle and make it move. There were many cycles leaning against the sides of the house in those days as the gardener and the helpers came to work on cycles. When we returned from school in the afternoon, we would commandeer those cycles while everyone was resting and run with them, briefly getting our feet off the ground by putting them on the pedal on one side only. In time, when we got braver — and a little taller — we would try and put the other foot through the bars and onto the second pedal, and still standing, would try to move the pedals and ‘cycle’ up and down the driveway.

Of course, there were many minor accidents — scraped knees and hands, bruised egos and shattered confidence. We hid those cuts and scrapes, not wanting to wound our egos any further by making our failures public, especially as the eldest sibling in the family was already proficient on a cycle and even made his way to school on one.

We also suspected that no one would really sympathise with our injuries since we had been indulging ourselves with other people’s property, so all the cloak and dagger stuff continued: We used other people’s cycles when no one was looking; we walked around with an innocent air when they were.

Facing the music

But of course, it couldn’t last. Eventually, the wear and tear and the damage we were responsible for became evident on those cycles, and we had to face the music.

We were banned from making free with other people’s cycles when they were parked in our garden and our pocket money was appropriated for repairs — but there was a glimmer of understanding in our parents’ eyes. They became aware of our desire to be on wheels and they also realised that the cycles we had been using were way too big for us. So, off we went with them to the cycle rental shops down the road to see what was on offer.

While two-wheelers of the motorised kind were rarer in those long-ago days, cycles, cycle repair shops and cycle rental shops were everywhere and it did not take us long to find exactly what we needed. There were cycles of all sizes available for hire — at a mere ten paisa an hour — and we actually found small ones on which we could sit comfortably and get our feet to touch the ground! What’s more, when we looked down from our perch on those cycles, the ground wasn’t all that far away. It was not a long way to fall — and we were quite willing to take the risk of toppling over.

The feeling of security we got with those smaller cycles made us braver than before — and thus we took those first steps towards independence. Already, around seven and ten years of age, we were tired of not being able to wave goodbye to our parents and make our way on our own to friends’ houses that were not within walking distance but just a short cycle ride away. And we couldn’t wait for the day when we would be allowed to cycle to school, like our brother did.

The possibilities seemed endless at that time.

Hopefully, with some encouragement — and separate lanes for cyclists — the thrill and the benefits of cycling will catch on again.

Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.