Old Photographs

You know when you move to a new house, and you hang the old photographs...they seem odd because you are used to seeing them in green background, and now it's a pink one...& you hate pink walls.

But somehow, the photographs slowly start to make sense out of the pink walls. And one morning you wake up, and the pink wall is your home! You still love the green walls, but now you also love pink walls. It's all about repeating the activities you used to do in a whole new context, to make yourself at home.

So I started biking, you know? I had this blue bike when I was six. It felt like a ride to freedom. I don't remember how many times I got home with a bruised knee. When I was riding my bike, life felt just perfect, until it wasn't. They said we could not ride bikes. Then they said, we couldn't go outside alone, otherwise, we might be stoned to death. 

So we flew. My daughter was born one month after I landed. She and I had no one else here but us. When I touched her for the first time, I just knew I had to protect her from all the bicycle-haters and stone-throwers. 

I bought a blue Krossport this time. It was on sale, still cost me more than my months' groceries. Sometimes you gotta buy yourself some freedom, I thought. 17 years later, I got bruises again. 

How would I know falling off a bicycle would be my old photographs?