Yesterday it was drizzling in the afternoon, when I got the sudden urge of taking out my bicycle and ride towards those mountains which often lure me while I relax on my balcony in post duty hours. But I convinced myself that in no circumstances I’ll soak my skin with that evil rain which has high potency to fetch me a flue from nowhere. The bored child in me didn’t quite dig the logic, so I had to promise him for an unconditional ‘may what so happen’ bicycling hours next day afternoon! Huh… sometimes I reconsider of consulting a psychologist but the one in my vicinity actually needs herself a good psychotherapy session, so I don’t dare to approach her. Today it turned out to be an amazing sunny day clearing out all my dark apprehensions. I couldn’t quite finish up my works early. Dal-rice seemed too heavy for a cyclist’s diet, so managed with a plate of chicken momo. After all I’m one of the most sedentary sacks whose bicycling frequency is irregularly irregular… equipped me with a bottle of water and I was ready to pedal my Atlas SLR.
In a split second I was on East-West highway. As the board suggests, the front road is going to Butwal which is the main highway… that means dominated by monster wheels and their poisonous farts… Noh I opted out from it. The road at my back goes to Mahendranagar (west) which bears the same sore… added to that I have taken it few times recently, so it wasn’t a good option either. Towards right it is going to Nepalgunj which is the most usual route for anybody living here. I took the Surkhet road… come on, it is the road that goes straight to those mountains who tempt me so often!
I requested the lady at the back of her husband’s (probably) bicycle for a snap but I wasn’t convincing enough or may be she’s of the photo-shy genre… she turned her face to front… I couldn’t help clicking from back though from my moving cycle.
This is one of the best things I like about Nepal… here kids of even quite low socioeconomic families are sent to school (sadly, unlike India). Schools may not have a school-like building, ample teachers or a ‘blow no horn’ board but they are everywhere and full with kids in uniforms!
What this lady was carrying seemed much beyond my lifting limit, yet she maintained a smile and she was happy when I told the purpose of my photographing her, ‘I write’…
I reached Chisapani village in an hour (no, this is not that Chisapani of far-west). The Surkhet road gets hillier from here on for which neither my bicycle (being gearless) nor my leg muscles were manly enough. Crossed Chisapani to reach the check post from where the forest area begins and then made a U-turn. While returning I took a muddy road at left to some village but the variable gradient and tractor-wheel made depressions on mud changed my plan after fifteen minutes of struggle and I cycled down to the same main road.Now it was those kids’ ‘best time in the day’ as they overzealously queued into the school bus… may be mom’s yummy chow-chow is waiting back home! I was also returning… it was enough for the first day… when I returned back to my home I had covered around 27 kilometres, last 2-3 kilometres of which I had badly felt while pedalling each and every inch… my crying thigh, weeping calf, fast beating heart and a satisfied mind… I have got a query- how much saddle time a cyclist needs to make his butt pain-proof? Who cares of it though… I’ll come back with the next story of my bicycling hours very soon!