I remember
The days mom used to ask me
To get flour, or mustard oil
On my way to home

Those two tuitions
One after another used to
Take a toll on me

Yet I loved cycling
On the downhill road
On empty roads where I could
Just let go off the handle
How sometimes I used to race
With those guys and their majestic cycles
Only to end up to be left behind

Seven years I guess, into hostel life
The cycle has been sold
Nobody could trade the memories
Though fondly kept and recollected

Freedom? The pleasures of downhill roads?
I traded them up for the
Big girl I had to be