The first time I rode a scooter

 The first time I rode a scooter was an instance of utter ridiculousness. I look back at that day with mixed feelings of horror, confusion and pride. It is one of the few anecdotes that remain like a permanent scar in the back of my mind. It was a warm Saturday morning and my family as a whole was feeling extremely amused for no particular reason. The atmosphere held a lazy mood and nature itself seemed to retire away to what was the beginning of a calm weekend. My father gave in to my constant nagging and agreed to teach me how to ride our brand new scooter. Extremely excited, I jumped upon the vehicle with enough enthusiasm to break the stand. Thankfully, that didn't happen. Father told me to calm down and allow him to take the scooter out of the shed in the first place. Grudgingly, I agreed. At first, my father briefed me through the basics - how to start the scooter, how to turn the handle, how to maintain the balance and so on. I listened attentively with the curiosity of a three-year old. The whole art of "driving" seemed so cool and distant for a girl like me, that I couldn't believe that I was finally going to conquer it. I started daydreaming. I would master riding the scooter and move on to the bike, followed by car, jeep, truck, JCB, and so on. I will slash away at all the obstacles that could potentially prevent me from learning how to drive and become a Racer. Yes! It would be perfect! I would fly and everyone would cheer for me! All those who mocked me and laughed at me would squirm in the shame of their very existence! Yes! It would be perfect! I must say that when I look back, I understand that I got carried away a little bit. But that was of no concern back then. I came back to my reality and drove the scooter for two kilometers with my father instructing me throughout about what to do. It was all going well and good until we reached the church ground. The geographical setting of the church ground is very weird. It is set on a rocky mountain with a lot of bumps and uneven ground. It is certainly not an optimal practice area for people learning to drive. My father and I, however, were oblivious to this fact, and continued to enjoy the awesomeness of driving. On reaching the ground, father told me that I must try driving on my own and I agreed, eager to find out what self-efficiency tastes like. As soon as I pressed the ignition switch and turned on the acceleration, I knew that I was going to have a hell of an experience. I tried to ignore my guts and shrug off my fear, but in vain. My life flashed before my eyes. Everything appeared like a blur. I could hear my father speaking in the background, his voice starting to reflect a hint of the horror I was experiencing. "Look there! Look there!" he said. "Look where? Look where?" I asked back. "Look everywhere!" he exclaimed,his voice fading into the chaos that had gripped my very ability to think rationally. I could sense the right part of my brain shutting down its instructions and my backbone going slack. I made a feeble attempt to lean in to press the brake, but instead I ended up providing more acceleration. The cemetery of the church seemed to be racing at me. Calling me by my name. I thought to myself in a split second, "Well, at least they don't have to bother with placing my body into the grave. It looks like I am about to fall straight into it! All they need to do is put the slab on top. I wonder what the food will be during my burial." I laughed bitterly in my mind at my ability to crack a joke to myself at the time of my probable death. However, my father rushed to me and told me to let go of the scooter. Something in my mind told me to comply and I did. I fell, with the scooter falling on me. Father pulled me from underneath the scooter and even now, I remember him repeatedly asking if I was hurt. I nodded my head weakly and smiled somewhat crookedly. We headed home in a hurry before anyone else bore witness to the ugly incident, unsure whether to laugh or cry. That day, I successfully managed to scrape off a majority of the paint from the new scooter. I also broke a mirror and the barrier of the wheel. I bruised myself, my whole body ached and my mind was still in the shock of what had happened. I would say, however, that the episode was quite a memory to look back upon.

Memoirs by Varsha Laiju Kappen, XI B