My worst Nightmare

I was thinking to write this nightmare which happened to me when I was kid. Every time I think. I perspire and my body freezes with my thought process running out of control.

My father was working for a private bank on the banks of River Cauvery. The place which I lived was known as Pandamangalam, with the name derived from the visit of Pandava’s who were in the middle of their 13 year exile in the forests. Legends say Draupati prayed to Lord Krishna to have darshan and he showed in front of them and a temple stands there today for both of them with a huge irrigation canal passing besides it. This discreet village till today supplies betel leaves to as far as Mumbai for Pan.

 I remember it was mid of May 1998, being a school kid I was enjoying the summer holidays which are hard to come now. After lot of pleading my parents bought me a brand new bright red Hero cycle, inspite of their weak financial condition. They bought me after months of budgeting my father’s meagre salary. I was in a cloud nine and he rode the bicycle from the nearby town to my village for a distance of 5 kms. I enjoyed the pillion ride on the bumpy road. On the next day, I was in the hot seat and my father was running behind me holding the carrier. The same happened to me for the next two days. Like what happens in cinema and ads he left his hold on the cycle which I didn’t realize and I bit dust when I realized he left me all alone. Happily it was not a terrible fall. Brim with confidence that I mastered the art of riding bicycle I took it and rode the cycle on the four rath streets of the village.

Little I realized was that the village was in the middle of the sand mining mafia’s route to smuggle out river sand from the river. I pedaled fast on the sloping part of the road hitting the speed which I wanted. I felt like I was cruising in the air. The road turned 45 degree and I realized too late that a sand laden lorry was coming towards me and I was confident that I’m going to die. I was totally numb and forgot to hit the brakes. I hit the bitumen gravel and fell from bicycle on the road infront of the lorry. I just closed eyes, God was Great as He saved me from the lorry running over my neck. When I opened the eyes , I was still under lorry just a small gap between my neck and tyres of lorry. The driver had a split second time to apply brakes and it came to halt just in time to save my life.

A mid aged women who was carrying a bundle of firewood, threw it on road and rushed to my rescue. She dragged me from the road and enquired me whether everything is fine. I was touched by her kindness and I left the place hoping that my parents won’t be aware of this thing.

I didn’t have guts to face my father and I lied to my mother about the bruises. I hit the bed early and woke up late hoping that my father would have left for the office. Little I realized was that a group of elders identified me at the spot as I frequented the temple with my father every weekend and they met him at home the late last night. They discussed about the near fatal crash and came to conclusion that I will be barred from riding bicycle till my legs touched the ground for balance. No monkey pedals which they called in Tamil Nadu. I took a sabbatical for nearly a year and was allowed to ride when the government came heavily and cracked its whip on the sand mafia.

 Even though this chilling incident happened nearly 15 yrs before, it still gives night mare whenever I ride motor cycle. This made me never to ride fast and I’m always fearsome for me to travel above 70 km/hr which I have set as a threshold value based on my instinct. I still cherish the warmth and kindness of the village people which is totally absent in this city and I realized why my father always liked to work in rural and semi urban areas.