It’s been ages since I've last blogged. The fact is that I just don’t have the time. There are so many things I’ve wanted to write about - like the Mylapore festival, my exhibition, my project… but then there is no time and I keep thinking later, let me do it later.. and then it never happens. And if I do finally find the time, the event or incident or whatever is no longer easy to write about. That piece of memory is left just that – a memory. So now, when overwork has finally made me fall sick and take a couple of days off, I'm going to try filling the gap.
I shall write about my Accident.
It wasn’t even a very impressive accident as far as accidents go. And the fact that my mom, my aunt and my brother managed to have one each in the same week kinda robs it of its distinctiveness as well. I mean, if I had to have an accident, why couldn’t I have one without competition in the bargain?? Well, at least I seem to have set a trend…
Anyway, as my first accident while riding a bike, it deserves mention and I shall immortalize it for posterity. Or till my page crashes anyway…
Well, a couple of my cousins had come over and being dead bored, we decided to head over to Spencers. Now even on a normal day, I dislike hanging out in Spencers which is one of the dullest places to be. As in what the hell does one do?? Other than window shop? And how long can anyone window shop anyway? Basically I dislike the atmosphere of the place and go there as rarely as possible.
Back to the story, the six of us set off on three bikes, I riding the TVS 50 which I happen to loathe. My mom and sister and brother and…ok, my family thinks I don’t like being seen on it cos it’s old and beat up. Not true. As in, it is old and beat up and has been in the family for a few centuries, but I don’t like it cos it’s so SLOW!! The pickup is miserable, the rearview mirrors are absent, as are the indicators and the horn. And one more thing, as I later found out.
Well, here we are on Kutchery Road (note, not even an important main road far from home but my local Kutchery Road!!) and I'm riding behind Sangeetha who has appropriated the Activa and is gleefully trying out different speed variants. Suddenly this guy cuts into her path, she brakes, I brake, discover that the brakes are in keeping with the style of the bike – a few centuries old, I slam into Sangu’s bike and with David executing a neat escape off the bike in ways that put in my mind rats and sinking ships, only yours truly is left sprawling in the middle of the road.
Someone lifts the bike off; I pick myself off the road. . At any other time, I would have found the scene funny. Sangeetha is screaming at the idiot who cut in her path, Francis restarts the bike for me; Amuthan asks me if I want to see the doctor. Do I? Hmmm, only the knee hurts other than the bruised dignity. I mean, at least if I had a broken leg and concussion or something to show for having had an accident, it is one thing. But one slightly aching knee? The maanam is the issue for sure.
Well, the guy has given up trying to out-yell Sangeetha, a rather pointless task as I well know and is taking off. I limp to the side of the road and try to dust myself off as best as I can. On the scene appear two cops. We beat it. Bad enough having an accident, there was no need to get caught without a license as well. By the time we reach Spencers, its time for me to head back to sing for the wedding mass…
Well, it was later in the night that the body pain started. And continued for the next couple of very painful days. So all the souvenir I had left from the accident was a body pain I remember from my first land work and gym session and an interestingly purple knee. Definitely not as spectacular or half as dramatic as falling into the Adyar river…or as unique. How many people do you know who have an intimate knowledge of the depths of the Adyar River?? Ah, that experience was worth the indignity… what audience, what applause…
(This is merely a light hearted sketch of the incident and I do not want any comments telling me severely that I should be thankful that it wasn’t more serious. I am.)