The real M - part 1

Even before I saw “Judi” Dench as the head of SIS (MI6) in Golden Eye, I had seen an equally potent, clever and decisive woman closer to home, the real M. I always thought she had an air of authority, capable of silencing all my protests to doing something impulsive.

It was a beautiful warm Saturday morning, I was having a nice dream, before I woke up to the scream of “Sriram, Sriram, Sriram!” from my mother. Actually, I think I heard this chanting of my name even towards the end of my dream. I think this chanting/screaming must have gone on for 15 mins before I stirred and sat up. That morning I woke up knowing I only had 3 hours of school to endure, before I could go home and play cricket the whole afternoon. Yes, any extra time that life gave me, I gave it to cricket.

It was one of those days when you wake up and see a surprise gift from your parents, you feel on top of the world. That Saturday I woke up to see something shining outside my window in the garage of my home. I instantly ran out and opened the door to the garage. There it was, in all its glory, a red Atlas all terrain bike. I was happy beyond limits. I went back home and hugged my father and mother as hard as I could and went out to try my new bike. I was in my final months of eighth grade and for us, middle class Indian kids, in our early teens, having a bike was something of a pride. I went out for about an hour trying all the usual stunts and impressing friends in my neighbourhood.

After a couple of months the bike excitement had considerably died down. On one Monday, after having hot Idlis and Chutney that mother had made for breakfast, I took my bike out to go to school. There she was, M, standing outside my gate watching me on my bike. I always believed she had premonition of any stupid thing I was about to indulge in. I smiled at her and came to stop in front of her. She smiled back and just said, “Don’t try any of your stupid tricks in today, its Monday, have a great week”. I nodded and started, thinking of which way to take to school.

It would take me just 10 mins of riding to get to school on the shortest route through the village roads. But I decided to take the high road of tar roads, though it would take me 20 mins, because I wanted to keep my bike in good condition. This route consisted of a steep ascent for about 200m, a straight flat terrain for about 600m, then the ultimate slight descent for about 250m, and then the final 100m of village roads to school. This 250m stretch of slight descent was about 25m wide with a barred white line in the middle. This barred line is meant to separate the traffic going either ways, up/down the street. But for me, I considered the whole width of the road as my territory when I went down the road.

The descent provided me with the opportunity to perfect the art of riding the bike without holding the handle bars and both hands in the air. I had been trying this for a week since, but with little success. But, I decided that today was the day when I learnt it for good. So, there I was on the top of this stretch, thinking of what I was about to achieve today. Fortunately, there was no vehicles on that stretching baring the lone vegetable vendor and his push cart to the right, somewhere in the middle of the stretch. He and his cart would not be a detterent to my goal, we drive on the left in India.

Finally, I would be the cool guy at school, who knew how to ride the bike without hands on the handle bar. Who knew what was in store for me at the end of this stretch. But for that moment, I felt on top of the world, at a higher altitude, than when I saw my new bike in my garage. I would be talk of the school. So, I started down the stretch, with my hands still on the bar for about 20m, then I slowly left my hands and started to realize my dream. Initially it was difficult to control the direction of the bike because I was going a bit slow. I started pedalling faster, and the gravity pull down the descent gave me descent speed. With the increased speed I was able to steer my bike in the direction I wanted, and started doing a ‘S’ type motion on the road hand high up in the air. How I wish, there was somebody videographing that epic moment in my life, with all the broad smile in my face and pride (haughtiness, you could call it too) in my heart.

Well, there was somebody watching me at least. I could make out it was a woman crossing the street at the fag end of the road. She turned and stood looking up towards me. I thought, this is cool, I have some audience atleast. Somebody would live to tell my story long after this day. The story of teenage boy who could ride his bike without using his hands. Little did I know or wanted to know, that there were thousands, if not lakhs, of boys and girls who could do this without all the fuss and haughtiness. Anyways, I had now passed the vegetable vendor and his cart, waving at him, as he was shouting for me to look at the road. As I neared the end of the road, I realized that I knew this woman looking at me. It was M! Well, how would she know, what was she doing there, how would she be right there, exactly at the place and time where I was supposed to finally fulfil my dream.

It confirmed my suspicions that M had some kind of power of finding out when boys were upto something. I stopped in front of her, face, both happy with excitement and red with embrassment. She repeated, “I told you not to try any stupid tricks today”. Its one thing if there is someone in your neighborhood concerned about you and providing all the unncessary advice, you can just listen and ignore it. Its another thing if that someone is your mother. It will have far reaching consequences, like cut in daily pocket money, food that you don’t like eating, no morning drink while sitting on the sofa, no smile in the morning when you get up, no smile when you leave for school, and no smile whatsoever when you get back from school. Those would be the hardest days of my life. So, I decided not to take on M without proper planning. More about my plans for real M will continue.