Mihir and his Bicycle

Mihir and his Bicycle

Mihir was riding his new bicycle, running from one side to another in the hall, running it as fast as he can, making all sort of sounds that could resemble the car or a motorbike but was as loud as a fire truck. His mom instructed to leave the hall and go into garden as it was too much for the poor hall. He rushed to garden, it is all same for him, a room or a garden, everything is a play ground.

I could hear the same sound from outside, running, laughing and screaming in joy.

Then after a while it stopped. I looked outside the window to make sure things are alright. 

I saw him struggling with the bicycle which was now stuck into mud. poor boy! it was raining in the morning. I smiled watching him trying hard to get it out so that he can break this peace again with all different kind of noises he can make.

He was trying hard but could not get his beloved bicycle again. After a while I could see the frustration out of his now-not-so-innocent eyes. He screamed hard, again, then again. As it could help to get the cycle out. He looked into window and realizing I am watching, cried his loungs out to get my attention.

This act made me realize, we all do the same when our beloved cycles stuck somewhere, yielding nothing what we need.

Let the cycle be a person or a thing or may be a job you want to get finished, We scream for it, we cry, we make a scene to get attention from people we think were ours to get help or just to be poured by sympathy.

Sometimes it work, but when it doesn't we blame everything. we whine, we weep. but we don't accept things as they are. off-course we don't realize our beloved needs might have brains of their own and has their own beloved needs, ever growing needs, need that can not be satisfied.