There is this general notion in the world that every single entity has some semblance of existence in it, be it living or dead. It is strange I know, and maybe one of those theories of existence that those who have beliefs but had rather not have them tagged as religious follow; as I said I don't know but day by day I am begining to believe in that theory; not in its enterity, but small aspects of it.
How so? Well, if you have been following this by now you must have herad of St. Blackie the most magnanimous and selfless bicycle invented. I am honoured to get onto that bicycle daily as it makes my daily commute possible. Perhaps maybe if you are lost at this point then go a step or two back and figure out just why St. Blackie's magnanimity is noteworthy.
My baiskeli, St. blackie, has been upto her mischief again. The cacaphony of noises it has picked up of late sounds like the introductory beat of Survivor's Eye of the tiger. I know this becasue;
a) I happen to really like that song and it a superb moment when I play it off my machine before I head off to campus; and
b) I have to listen as the little gremlins in the structure of St. Blackie playing as if auditioning to be part of the Beatles all over again.
I have often snickered at this bicycle of mine and made loud noises and a couple of big worded insults at it whenever it makes noise and believe it or not, I'm quite inclined to believe that she heard and understood me. No don't sit there with that look of perplexed indignation; it is not only plausible , probable but also downright possible.
The other day as I was riding home, I went over a speed bump then she intentionally moved the pedal one cycle back so that it clonked (yes that is a word!) me on the back of my heel and at the same time she assumed control of the bike as if to show me who's in charge. Of course it was a struggle of epic proportions to calm her down. When calm was finally restored and a sort of equilibrum was achieved, she picked up her infernal racket again and after listening to her for a while, I'm thinking of recording a whole set of her greatest hits and making them a CD and sell it off for a whole load of money and perhaps some fame. Perhaps then I will finally get a chance to repaint her and replace all those squeaky gremlins with quiet, more efficient ones who will only keep the bike moving.
Oh, ps, St. Blackie has picked up another sound, a rasping one that sounds like a wood chipper turned to low power, it is a quite a bike I tell you.
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