I had to prove it in competition. The old school master was kind as well as tough. He had been allowed two bicycles on rent by a benefactor of his, to teach us students, around twenty of us.
The first selection for the aspirant learners by calling who can freely bicycle on the road in the afternoon if they are provided with a bicycle. The two bicycles were standing beside us, one a brand new white half bicycle which was a great stuff in the sixties (1960s). Another one was a black one, new but not so elegant.
I was filled with excitement and my hand went up. The master ji said : "Give him the first cycle". Next, I was bicycling on that brand new bicycle with an elder brother holding me from behind to keep me not falling. As it was a boarding school for those in the poorer echelons of life, but good to study, this brother whom we called Desiettan was always minding us when he was available there. He later went on to become priest. He patiently guided me on the bicycle, how to balance, how to keep looking forward while bicycling etc.
After half a day's running by him behind me and myself trying to take in the intricacies of this great art, I was well balanced by lunch time. After lunch we were taken out for the competition. The other bicycle had been shared by two boys as number of aspirants had gone up after me. We were arranged on the Trichur highway to go to the Chiyyaram side a one kilometre ride. A few boys stood guard at various points to watch if we are doing it properly and not getting down on the way.
We all started earnestly and went past on our left, according to the left side driving followed here and without much problem reached Chiyyaram. The road was smooth, occasional vehicles passing up or down. On either side of the road was water flowing canals with overgrown green grass. I got down at Chiyyaram and after a couple of leg pushes got on to my return trip, our well placed watch guards (our school friends) watching me. So far, so good! Here after was the incident of my life. I was bicycling cool, when a bus was coming against and a car was honking from my behind. On to my left in front was an elderly gentleman walking leisurely with his dothi up in one hand and a packet on the other. I was almost reaching him and the car fellow honked again from just my back. OH....That did it. I was so terrified, I went through the arm pit of the elderly gentleman,...on to..the..water canal. You can imagine. In the fright, I did not fear the water or the condition of the canal, but as the car which was coming after me. Neither could I brake nor look back how far away the car was. I went sprawling into the water and mud, the little bicycle between my thighs. I stood on my hands for a few seconds before recovering from the shock.
Then, slowly I came out to face the elderly gentleman! I was afraid he would beat me. He didn't, but consoled me saying "I have children like you at home. Tell me if you have any pain" That was a solace. He had his well pieced mutton scattered all over by my sudden hit from behind. I feebly enquired of him if I could get him replacement for the lost meat. He said "I told you, you just be good and return home and don't bicycle on this high way. It is dangerous. Do it on the inner roads. Meat and all, I can take care of" He was an angel for me at that moment.
I thanked him, and afterwards, God for him and started pushing the cycle for a while. Once he was out of sight, I climbed on again and completed the trip. All the same, report had gone, that I have failed the Test...! I had fallen/got down from the bicycle on the way..!
