After a long, warm meet-up with
my no-time-wasting, Insta-scrolling friends, it was time for me to go back
home. Bidding a half-hearted bye-bye to my mates, I got onto my half-rusted,
semi-braked, fully battle-tested bicycle. Just a few steps from the gate, I
started to feel as if I was pulling a rickshaw loaded with a polygamic nuclear
family. Puzzled, I looked down at my back tyre. Yes, you guessed it right, a
typical, ever-re-laid road problem of our smart cities – a flat tire.
But, when you're standing near a
parking lot where your friend's scooty is parked, this is not really a real
problem. But calling a friend for help is an old, usual, and an obvious option.
I’m a clever-witted youth with firing neurons running across my exceptional
brain. How can a nerd like me choose a commoner’s obvious route when my wit is
dying to devise for me an extraordinarily genius plan?
So, I obeyed my brain, cast out
the casual outdated idea to call for help, and prepared a perfect plan. The
plan was to go find the nearest repair shop to fix my punctured wheel at that
time, 10 o'clock on Sunday night. Clever, isn't it? So I started walking my
bicycle towards the repair shop in the end of the street. Surprisingly, the
shop was closed. How in the world can they close a shop in this ever-awake,
sleepless city? They must know they are losing sincere customers like me.
Alright, plan B in action. My
nudging brain advised me to find the nearest petrol bunk to refill the
punctured tyre. Again, I abided by it. Continuing my intelligently-adventurous
journey, I walked my bicycle a few more steps. Suddenly, my neurons tingled me.
It suggested, ‘why not ride the cycle? Just one flat tyre. Still have an
intact steel rim, right?’ Abiding to its words without a second thought, I
sat on my cycle and started pedaling. Despite the friction between the road and
the rim signaling me with its sparks, my unwavering commitment to my witty brain
kept me focused. But just a few meters from there, unexpectedly, my front tyre
burst off.
What an unfortunate misfortune! What
exploded more aggressively than the tyre was my witty brain. What went wrong? I
hoped that the repair shop would be open. I hoped that the petrol pump had an
air pump. I hoped they would accept to air up my bicycle tyre with that, which I
know, was very risky. I also hoped it would inflate my punctured tyre without
leaks. It was deeply depressing to see how such a hopeful, smart and sophisticated
plan splattered apart in no time.
While all these thoughts and
emotions were battering my mind, my genius brain pricked me, yet again. This
time, it asked me to jog my cycle in search of the next nearest tyre shop. If closed,
it asked me to jog home. But, I am not falling for its sugary stupidity, yet
again. I abruptly shut it off and revived the traditional, casual and common
option – to call my friend for help. So, I parked my bicycle back in the parking
lot. Then, my friend drove me home in scooty and promised to get my bicycle
repaired.
The next day, I got a call from
my friend that the cycle was ready and continued, ‘the puncture costs Rs. 50.
But the replacement of the burst off tyre costs Rs. 450 more. Total Rs. 500.’
I thanked my mate and cut off the call. Staring at the slow-rotating ceiling
fan, I grinned at how my brilliant brain had just cost me 10 times more than a
simple phone call!
If you have similar experiences in life, do share them in the comments section below!
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