HOW TO RIDE THE CYCLE OF LIFE
A. V. Narasimha Rao
The touching hand on my shoulder
I turned round
It was
My father’s friend
***********
Cycle!
On a Sunday morning
He satiated my yearning
Took me to the ground
With his lean but strong hands
My father tapped my shoulder.
Helped me ride happily
Showed me how to mount
And to pedal
And to balance
Overcoming ups and downs
Manipulating bends and curves
He ran with me
Panting and sweating
Stopping only when felt O.K.
Feeling confident
I continued
I learnt and
I succeeded.
It was funny to listen to
The directions and instructions
The
cautions and precautions on
How to drive and strive
How to maintain
How to oil and
How to clean the dust off.
And to understand what the cycle tells
When it creaks
When it groans
When it moans and grunts
He told me to handle it tenderly
Lest it should rust.
**********
I lost the cycle
It was cruelly stolen
The hand will never pat me
I lost all the hope
I lost all the courage
It is only
VOID
O’ God! Save me.
The directions and instructions
The cautions and precautions on
How to drive and strive
Rang in my year
I remembered
The lean but strong hand
That tapped my shoulder.
Courage,
Confidence,
Continued to pour in.
*************
I turned round
The touching hand of My father’s friend
My father appeared in him
The touch
Assured and reassured.