I fell from my bicycle…

Mounting my bicycle, I pedalled my way up a hill, on an early Sunday morning. Whistling to myself, enjoying the fresh morning air, I didn’t see a small rock jutting out on the road; the tyre bumped into it, swerved and before I could think of anything, I found myself on the ground on my back, groaning over a bruise on my elbow.

I stood up, dusted myself off, picked up my cycle, mounted again and rode on…

I guess life is as much the same as riding a bicycle. You pedal your way towards your goal; even when your destination is out of sight, you know in your heart, it is within your reach! You just need to pedal on.

And then you come across, abruptly, to rounds and bends, twists and turns and zigzagged paths that rough up your ride. You double your efforts to cross the hurdles and often fall on the ground greeting bruises and cuts. But even when you fall, you know you’ve to get up; someone around might help you to your feet, but at times, you’ve to pick yourself up because your bicycle has to keep moving on…you can’t stop midway, can you?

And once you do resume your journey, you encounter once again the rough roads, sometimes smooth and easy, meeting people and life along the way, taking a rest under the canopy of a tree to move on with renewed vigour…

As time ticks by, you often doubt yourself, whether all the efforts are really worth it? Well, it is. You do believe in your heart, that is. For it is only when you’ve exhausted yourself, depleted all your reserves of strength and determination and hope and faith, you arrive at your destination, your heart smiling contently, whispering to your soul that the journey was really worth it…



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