The Chetak Diaries : Part — I, Year 1994 !!! Kishore On Shore !

1 Мар 2015 | Author: | Комментарии к записи The Chetak Diaries : Part — I, Year 1994 !!! Kishore On Shore ! отключены
Bajaj Chetak

Staring at the oceans and wondering the world so high ‘n dry most of the planet is so insanely wet !

The Diaries. Part – I, Year

The Chetak Diaries

Battle of has found an eternal place in History for the epitome of Bravery and displayed by the Rajput Emperor Singh Mewar, mostly to as Maharana Pratap. A major of the credit, as per the legends go, goes to his horse Chetak .

In our school, we had a in Hindi and just a couple of in it would describe Chetak conveniently. This is how it goes:

nadiya padi apaar….  kaise utaare paar !

ne socha iss paar…. tab tak chetak tha uss

That’s how legendary Maharana Chetak was. Now, are a million Chetaks and each their own Legends. Many ride it with the same while others just it in their garage hoping it to into an Antique model which I believe will at least another couple of It was Maharana Pratap’s Chetak and now it’s Bajaj’s Chetak !

I was crying bloody … as I had my head on a window and a piece of the had pierced into my forehead. As if the wasn’t hurting enough, I had to get of my mom’s evergreen and ever-effective “ get-well-soon-and-you-will-get-a-real-handful-from-me ”. She yelled, screamed and did a other things simultaneously as she dragged me to the nearest clinic ( was again like a million far, keeping in mind the situation ). She “requested” the others outside the clinic to allow “immediately” to take her son to see the doctor.

she dared anyone to stop her doing so just by her “look”. A of gentlemen out there made way and to carry me, but she held me so tight it wasn’t the wound hurting We were now inside the doctor’s The Hell… and The Satan with a pipe hanging around his !

I had probably stopped crying by just to dial down the so that the stupid doctor take any drastic decisions Syringes and Stitches . I knew, it obviously wasn’t the first !

The doctor checked the fresh quickly and comforted my mother it’s nothing serious, and there was nothing to worry. this is when she loosened the way she was my hands and I could see a tiny of tear somewhere around her It could have been a sweat bead ( NO. it wasn’t).

the Attention Mongering Moron I am ( yes. since then ), I to dial up the tone of crying so that they know the wound is not really that It was huge and it was bleeding and hurting and !

“He’ll just need a of stitches and he’ll be perfectly said the Satan and I witnessed my nightmares unraveling itself in front of my eyes.  I damned for over-doing the dial-up and dial-down of the Just then, he went in to get his torture weapons, and I looked at my

I managed to give the cutest like a little wounded with sagging eyebrows and was about to say something but the devil was by then. Mom had got what I was about to so she asked the doctor “Doctor, he very upset by syringes .  make sure it doesn’t and then she looked at me and continued ” We have ice cream after I was shocked, who said anything syringes. He was only about to the wound.

Why is she giving ideas to the devil…! later did I realize, that the has to start with the syringe so the torture with the needle hurt much…! What an Doctors are supposed to be intelligent I !

All this while I had kind of to forget about crying, but he took out that syringe, I my own record in crying. I am sure the family on the tree outside the got relocated somewhere else… I don’t remember what after that, but when I up, there was a big, heavy of cotton and all that bandage stuffed on my wound. It wasn’t anymore, but why take attention off my

So, I just made some sounds now and then, to retain the Before I could strangle the with his own rubber pipe was hanging around his neck, mom was me outside the cabin. For some she made me sit outside in the waiting again !

Thoughts of the traumatic few minutes flashed in my mind and I wondered if I have to go through all of again. I never even that the doctor had given me a I didn’t want to eat that there in the Devil’s own territory.

It have hurt my ego. So, I hid it in my pocket !

But, just that very moment, I a sound that made all my go away in a whisker. I forgot the wound. I forgot about the and his stupid cotton factory on my I freed myself from my hand, jumped from the and ran towards the gate and yes, I was

There comes my Dad’s The green, Bajaj Chetak. My own Pratap was arriving majestically his Chetak.

I stood near the gate like a monkey waiting to every single thing every single person who me go through that trauma.

Mom me and held my hand tightly shouting not to cross the road. Dad crossed the road in his scooter and right in front of us. I started out some crap as I hurriedly on the scooter in the space between the seat and the back seat. was no seat there technically, but I was made to sit there. Mom would sit in the backseat.

I would be sandwiched then. I loved it. I hugged my back and held him tight.

Mom sat me as usual and somehow, she still to hold me tight just the way she had doing for the last 1 hour.

very moment, dad riding the me hugging him tight and knowing mom is right behind me holding me was a luxury. It was not about the wound I wished to get more wounds so that I could get “this” more often.

Also, and more importantly, of sympathy Ice Cream, which more heavenly than the ice cream. P

This was not really the scooter, but the moments that our offered to families like The warmth, the comfort, the affection and in one Love.

End of Part I

This is a part of the contest at in with

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