Saturday, February 13, 2021

Story of cycling and love






 Cycling is pure love at various levels-

love for the environment-reduces carbon footprint and all- Greta , the bully pulpit would approve

love for thyself-keeps one and ones heart shipshape

love for fresh air-still a reality in Goa

love for adventure-fixing punctures in machine and man keeps the adrenaline flowing

love mildly masochistic-why else do we sign up for 100kms cycling events

So this blog is about another well organised event by Xaxti riders. I did my maiden century with them a couple of years ago and this time they have outdone themselves in terms of participants, volunteers, route, arrangements, weather(wonder how they got that one so right with all the global warming...the nice nip in the air was so perfect ). Cycling perfectionistas

It would be safe to say this event is the Cycling Mecca for every cyclist. Cycling elixir

Like all pilgrimages we cyclists prepare, overprepare, and prepare till we can prepare no more. An adorable senior cyclist prepared an itinery which had first and second attempt poo provisions for  and variations thereof due to unearthly waking hours. After bike check, tyre check , light check, water check, 1 week prior practice cycling, 2 days prior mandatory rest days, hydration till bladder outer limits are tested, one last recheck tyres till it tires (nothing sucks more than a puncture unless fixing puncture is ones hobby...believe me I personally know puncturephiliac cyclists) we finally set out for the ride. Cycling prep paranoia



I had 3 centuries in my cycling CV. I even earned myself my Roadie -Moga for my past performances. She is a Polygon Roadie . Besides this I dont know much , much to the chagrin of machine loving male brain who constantly badger me about series, gear set, brakes, fork n what not. I know my cycle's soul and not some easily replaceable, materialistic external features. Moga ,I have got you together Girl. Cycling ignorance

At breakfast point ,which was 50 mts off the road I handed over my Moga to a random person who offered to care for her while I care for myself. I walked away gaily towards hot batata wadas. One bite into it and realisation washed over me . I had not even had a good look at the person. What if he was not even a voluteer. What if someone wanted to sabotage my race. A fellow cyclist teased me about a valet parking card ....When panic strikes reasing takes a backseat. Batata wadas notwithstanding I rushed back to find that the random stranger was indeed a well meaning volunteer. Cycling silly points 

In running and cycling , the older one gets the better they get at endurance. As I was a couple of years older from my first century , clearly I was the better rider this time. Just realised that the one who blew his 69 candles Bday cake was way older and hence way better than me. He is to cycling to what Gandhiji was to walking . While I struggled to crunch the last few kms, Mr Senior even had the generosity in his soul to give me gear changing and cadence advice , before pedalling away. Cycling Bonhomie .

The ride took us through the hilly forests of the Western Ghats. Towards completion , ie when the mind, body and soul gives up but the Kms are still formidable , villages are never ending . A particular Chandor place( at 80km mark) seemed to be the largest city in goa. A signboard that said 25 kms to finish city is such a lie because 30 minutes of gruelling pedalling later at the water point the volunteer says I am 27 kms from the finish line. When I start to throw a estrogenic tantrum a fellow cyclist lies cpmfortingly that I heard it wrong and it is only 17 kms ahead. Cycling Lies

Infact in this ride all had their cycling best stats...even me Cycling surprises

But Amol cycles for divine love (Divya means divine, for the uninitiated). He powers his rides by cursing me  and boy that works very well...100kms in sub 5 hours, supra 20kms/hour-Cycling Love 

Happy Valentines Honey


Tuesday, January 19, 2021

Adi comes of age







 Disclaimers

1. Amol and me are young and  first time parents. 

2 .Adi has always been a better child than we have been as parents.

Unlike most moms who gush over their child's milestones I have celebrated my "milestone"mom moments..........The first night I slept through in his infancy, the precise date from when toilet accidents stopped happening,the first Monday morning he stopped puking on my face after I stuffed him with idlis,  the first academic year school work was completed without my intervention, the first time that he made me a sandwich post a long day at work(I have outsourced so much of the cooking to him from then ).....the list could be endless because I have an elephants memory.

Cut to Act 2

If one thought being a teenager was bad : being a teenager's mom is the living eighth rung of hell...

Adi grew taller than me ( there was not much to catch up anyway).....He questioned our authority as parents(he is the better child anyway, but still)....His voice changed.....wisps of downy hair on the cheeks n chin surfaced....we disagreed about everything.....my baby who crowned mom the queen thinks I fly the quidditch now. My Google search engine showed "how to be better parent"," 5 mistakes in bringing up teens" with all the data that Mr Pichai promised not collect n process n sell to the ad world

My boy had come of age and I wanted to shout from the roof tops the rite of passage......mostly out of happiness 

 Our western parent peers celebrate Sweet 16 and Quinceanera, Bar/Bat Mitzvah by the Jewish .Closer home in the South India we celebrate the girls menarche as Manjal Neeratru Vizha in Tamil Nadu, Peddamanishi Pandaga in Andhra Pradesh, Nishanth Tarannum  in Karnataka.

We did not have any template for boys in our vast mixed culture marriage . Amol would cringe everytime I mentioned I wanted to celebrate my boy's Testosterone bonanza but eventually gave in with precondition that I will not post pictures on social media with embarassing titles

My Tamil family played along...My brother (mama-maternal uncle) painstakingly gathered  theme specific Seeru Varisai - (gifts from the maternal home) The Goan side explained to their FnF that it is an exotic tradition .  A professional barber was called for Adi's first facial hair trim. We had a moustache cake, 16 gift wrapped goodies.A  feast (mutton biryani, boiled eggs, fried fish, prawn curry, mori mutton) was laid out for FnF. Prevailing days of bird flu scare forced me to drop out Adi's fave - chicken. I did not want to compete with Mugabe but my boy simply loves his meat . Veg readers dont judge me. All this is legally,  socially allowed to be consumed in our current  right leaning times .






With this coming of age I hope to handhold ADi to cross the threshold of adolescence n become an adult mom. Responsible child he always was........

I am waiting for a couple of more milestones  ...the first time he will wake up in the morning without me waking the entire neighbourhood. ...the first when I dont have to tiptoe to catch him doing something. But hey I am  an Indian  mom . We never really cut off the umbilical cord. Do we? Should we?