The quiet escapade in times of Covid

Ever since the pandemic started, many were confined to the realms of their homes unable to move out on the pretext of social distancing. Some channelized this lockdown by working on their hobbies and technical skills but for Rhea there was only one piece of solace – her exercising bicycle. A habit which began to burn off the extra calories mounted on account of her sedentary lifestyle eventually turned into a meditative practice. She cycled on it for hours – sometimes contemplating the meaning of life while chanting repetitive mantras to maintain her sanity during other times.

One day while doing so, the wheels of the cycle suddenly broke off from the shackles which were holding it stationary. This was odd. She took a moment to investigate what could have gone wrong but realised that the bike started to move. Even before she could hop off or yell for help, the bike zoomed off from its spot and threw itself outside the gallery which was attached to the room. It plummeted downward deep and just before hitting the ground it managed to take a sharp U-turn and ascend upwards. Rhea’s heart was in her mouth and she was so afraid that she couldn’t even scream. With her eyes firmly closed and her lips murmuring a silent prayer she held on to the bicycle handles anxiously with her sweaty hands while her legs continued to peddle.

After sometime, the initial anxiety settled and she started to feel very light. Surprisingly, now the surrounding air too felt so buoyant like as if it was aiding in keeping the bicycle afloat. The wheels continued to swirl albeit it required much less pedalling efforts now and after sometime she noticed that they continued to rotate even after she had stopped pedalling! It could be the inertia effect is what she thought. However, she noticed that the bike now had picked up a life of its own. It swirled effortlessly over the city’s skyline manoeuvring itself sharply trying to avoid the electrical wires and buildings which came along its way.

She tried to fathom what was happening and repeated to herself “there should be a way to control this madness!” She anxiously tried to gain control of the bike by holding the handle firmly and looking for its brakes. Alas this was a stationary cycle and as per product design it did not come with any disk brakes. She slammed her forehead in frustration and began to look for other means to control it while refusing to give up.

When she bent down to look at the tyres, her scarf plastered in a swoop on her face owing to the pressure of the wind. She moved it aside with sheer irritation only to realise that her hairband had given way and now her thick bushy hair was all over her face making it even more difficult to concentrate on the tyres for clues.

There was nothing that could be done now – the cycle had picked up a life of its own and did not provide any suitable means of hope to stop it. She had surrendered. Having a fear of heights since birth, she couldn’t bear the thought of looking behind and hence she decided to look upwards instead. The sky carried such a beautiful constellation of stars! Now that she was way above the buildings, foliage and pollution. Never before had she seen such a clear skyline. This was like a wallpaper in front of her. She stared into the expanse with disbelief admiring the stars - some of which were twinkling more brightly than the others.

Her thought process was interrupted and she was pulled out of this moment with the monotonous twirling sound of the pedals. She looked back to notice how far she had come from her home which was now reduced to  tiny spot amongst the vast expanse of buildings below. She recognised her house by the neon gallery light which was left on a couple of minutes ago. These are the ones which she had once purchased in a whim when she was obsessed with the neon trend of colours. So obsessed was she that not only her clothing and accessories had traces of neon but gradually she had also moved to other avenues like home décor and upholstery.

Her initial panic had now settled and she was more comfortable with the absurdity of the fact that her cycle had now broken off and taken a life of her own. Her attention now hovered over how she should get back. Her mom would pay a visit anytime in order to wish her a good night’s sleep and she wouldn’t want her to panic on noticing her absence. Also, how on earth would she explain that her stationery bicycle decided to take off?

With a tough resolve she pulled back the handle with all her might – so much so that the bicycle resisted the force and titled upwards at an awkward right angle. She yanked the handle to its right and tried to face it in the direction towards the ground. The bike resisted the action and remained suspended in the air for some time before deciding to position itself towards her house. All those years of push-ups definitely helped is what she thought.

She gave a slight push to the cycle while pedaling it softly which the bike resisted like an upset partner but after a moment it picked up the momentum and began twirling happily in the direction of her house. For the first time Rhea felt the wind against here face, her hair carefree, magically moving against the wind. And in that moment she felt absolutely carefree, no worries and no anxiety. No worldly pressures, no expectations and no bickering people. This was it – what they call a feeling of nirvana. It was the shackles of the bicycle which were broken. However, it felt more of freedom to her.

And in that moment of ecstasy, Rhea woke up with a startle. She stared around at the corners of her room in panic. The clock on the wall showed 5.15 am. She glanced outside the window and saw that it was still dark with a faint hint of brightness from the street light across the road. With the help of her phone’s torchlight she saw the bicycle in her room with all its parts intact and it being comfortably positioned in the corner next to the gallery door. She drew a big breath of relief and sipped a couple of mouthfuls of water before reassuringly moving to sleep again.

They say the dreams which are dreamt in the wee hours of the morning come true. Don’t they?