Let us ring the bicycle bells ting- a -ling -a- ling ----tring - tring - tring. I excitedly arrived at the Valley forge National Park a little past noon on a saturday - all set to take the 6 mile trail bike ride (although i love to call it a bicycle) with my biking shoes, sunglasses, a water bottle, helmet, small map of the trail around the park- tucked into my pocket, quiet acting like a pro biker just following the biking instructions read previously on the website. The journey began, it was a hot summer day and after riding a couple of miles I sat down by the soft sweet schuylkill river which had captivated my romantic imagination of France countryside which I have only read about in 'de tour e france' magazines on the long boring air france flight that id travel often during my work days, unfortunately busy work life then got me to experience only the skies of France :(
I sipped some water from my water bottle and glarred at the lush green choppy river as I slowly indulged in reminiscing some enjoyable good old days - first thing that flashed was the backwaters of Kerala - or so you say God s own country! To my better half it was home to his Dad s ancestoral - big beautiful traditional home with an outdoor courtyard and temple at the backyard where we lit a hundred diyas one lovely cool evening in September. So whilst better half decided to stay home afterall it was home sweet home for him but to the mischievous and adventurous me it was a feast to my nature loving eyes, ears and senses. I tagged along Sowmya a young energetic niece and my father in law who was more than happy to give me a tour to a nearby river bank so as to glance a part of the heart of backwaters. It was a 20 minute walk through the lovely wood side of the village and we had our umbrellas opened up to the hazy grey sky. We reached the river bank and i got to see a picture that id often sketch in my drawing book - An old lady washing clothes by the river bank - who innocently asked me in malayalam ' Nengla Yaar' meaning Who are you? i quickly turned and pointed to my FIL in sign language bcos I could not reply back in Malayalam. ..So there we were at the banks of the beautiful Uragam river in Trissur, I quickly plunged into the cool green waters with ease.
I sipped some water from my water bottle and glarred at the lush green choppy river as I slowly indulged in reminiscing some enjoyable good old days - first thing that flashed was the backwaters of Kerala - or so you say God s own country! To my better half it was home to his Dad s ancestoral - big beautiful traditional home with an outdoor courtyard and temple at the backyard where we lit a hundred diyas one lovely cool evening in September. So whilst better half decided to stay home afterall it was home sweet home for him but to the mischievous and adventurous me it was a feast to my nature loving eyes, ears and senses. I tagged along Sowmya a young energetic niece and my father in law who was more than happy to give me a tour to a nearby river bank so as to glance a part of the heart of backwaters. It was a 20 minute walk through the lovely wood side of the village and we had our umbrellas opened up to the hazy grey sky. We reached the river bank and i got to see a picture that id often sketch in my drawing book - An old lady washing clothes by the river bank - who innocently asked me in malayalam ' Nengla Yaar' meaning Who are you? i quickly turned and pointed to my FIL in sign language bcos I could not reply back in Malayalam. ..So there we were at the banks of the beautiful Uragam river in Trissur, I quickly plunged into the cool green waters with ease.
Uragam river in Kerala with Sowmya!! |
Moments later I was woken up by my 2 year old champ Vivaan, my new biking buddy, calling out to me as he was resting back in his buggy bike tagged along with my bike. Let's get going 'ting a ling a ling - tring tring tring'cried he.
Life s simplest pleasures are life s greatest joys!! As i hopped back on to my bicycle, i thanked the Schuylkill river for having taken me back to some sweet childhood memories and happy family times. Not little did i know that my childhood bicycle rides would become such a wonderful memory and story of my life. Im sure we all have stories to tell our kids but of course with generations the stories change too. As a child i'd hear stories from my Father, story of his generation, story of his dream to live in the sea shore of bustling Bombay as he visited this city of dreams during his teenage vacations, story of my patriarchal grandfather DS Ramaswamy Iyer who along with his wife and five little children and a sixth one budding in her womb, fled Rangoon - Burma (a British colony then where my grandfather worked for a British Bank) because of a sudden outburst of the second world war in 1942, my grandmother and other women with children were put on to a ship that sailed along the Indian ocean and reached a small village in Tamil Nadu one early morning. My grandmother with a wondrous hope would send her two older boys to the village bus stop everyday to find out if her husband has arrived, who along with other men was supposedly walking through the forests of East India with an obligation to carry the Bank s cash ((INR 12000 a huge amount surely then) safely to India. He did reach Tamil nadu after 40 days with a white beard having lost 30 pounds, was hard for my uncles to recognise him, rushed to Madras to report to his head office and hand over the Bank s cash and started a new life in the city.The Bank is today known as The Standard Charted Bank. So my father would end the story here...
......As my mind drifted back to take the trail ride, i retreated myself riding along the beautiful green banks of the Schuylkill river - utterly a foreign river to me that changed my reflective outlook, that made me realise that the longevity of generations and recalling the 'family tree' can bring out such a refreshing color to your life, touching deep spiritual bonds of family and indeed they live on for generations..sometimes haunting us through adversity, sometimes giving us a bitter sweet taste of the generation gap, sometimes giving us an exuberant display of emotions but ensuring that the blessed circle of life continues forever. As I fought back tears that magically appeared, I quickly made paper boats for my son, let it into the river and watched it all along as we rode back to the smiling sun, humming 'Let us ring the bicycle bells ting a ling a ling --- tring -tring tring'. We surely had an awesome saturday :)
......As my mind drifted back to take the trail ride, i retreated myself riding along the beautiful green banks of the Schuylkill river - utterly a foreign river to me that changed my reflective outlook, that made me realise that the longevity of generations and recalling the 'family tree' can bring out such a refreshing color to your life, touching deep spiritual bonds of family and indeed they live on for generations..sometimes haunting us through adversity, sometimes giving us a bitter sweet taste of the generation gap, sometimes giving us an exuberant display of emotions but ensuring that the blessed circle of life continues forever. As I fought back tears that magically appeared, I quickly made paper boats for my son, let it into the river and watched it all along as we rode back to the smiling sun, humming 'Let us ring the bicycle bells ting a ling a ling --- tring -tring tring'. We surely had an awesome saturday :)
The buggy bike ride @Valley forge national park |
Wow Priya can't believe this is you!!!
ReplyDeleteI mean I know the Burma story and your sweet mommy and Raju cyclewala but your write up is so well expressed and Vivu he is one lucky boy he is definitely having loads of fun with his naughty mom and that ting a ling a ling is so so sweet I can imagine you and Vivu hummin it a loud.
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ReplyDeletehaha Aarti you got it!! you just know everything about me :) dont you ? i recollect your Avon BMx red color bicycle that youd ride with a smile ohh those were the days! miss you gurl and our good times.
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