A Miracle Tube of the Tyre

It was raining. The road was slippery.Automobiles were crawling like tortoise. Nineteenth Century buses were farting black smoke and honking arrhythmically. Motorcyclists were craning their heads like geese in the lake and overtaking every kind of vehicles. Beep...beep...beep...beep. I was among them. I could see grumpy faced people in the bus or, the car looking at me as if I was the one who caused the whole lot of problem to their journey. I was just one amongest other motorcyclists and let the system run. That was the best practice we fashioned while driving in the town or the countryside; well, we all, you and I.

It was 12:30 PM. The first Saturday of May, 2012. I was going to Hetauda from Kathmandu on my Bike. There was a heavy traffic in Dakshinkali road because it was a Saturday and many people were returning to Kathmandu from Dakshinkali temple. Some of them were in their personal cars, taxies and others were in the public buses. The motorcyclists were just like leeches in the high-hill damp grasses. In fact, it was a complete chaos.

Beeping and dragging through narrow gap between two lanes of the broken, mud-gravy bumper road, I finally arrived at Dakhchhinkali. As I just crossed the holy river of Dakshinkali, I saw a girl waving her hand from the road side. I slower the speed the pulled over. I quickly scanned her from head to toe, soldier to soldier if I could recognize her. She was definitely in her late teens, wearing green and white spotted Kurtha, had a shy demeanour but bold enough to ask ride in her subdued voice. Her soldier length hair was  partly colored gold and dishevelled. A gray backpack was swelled like a pregnant belly on the last stage although it was dangled on  the back. 
"Can you please give me a ride to Deurali. I have been waiting for Sumo but they all came full. There is a bus coming at 4.00PM, but I have to go early, " she finished all in a single sentence. 
Her eyes were round and wide. Two islands were visible in the ocean of  youth. 
" Roads are slippery and its raining too. I think It's good to wait another Sumo," I replied in a dilemma.
I could sense a debate between brain and body. I moved my backpack to the front and ask her to mount onto the back seat. She put her hand on my soldier and placed her bum shaking back and forth. I asked her to move closer and hold me firmly so that I could balance the bike. I did not have other motive besides driving safely. She soon put her both hands on my solder. Hot garlicky air hit my nose. An electric sensation ran through me as she rested her youth on my back.
" Do you go to school", I asked.
"No", she sound like giggling. 
"Did you come to worship here".
"No, I came to visit sister. She lives at Dakshinkali."
" Why didn't wait Sumo at the bazaar? You might get Sumo from there."
" I just walked because while standing at the bazaar so may people were gazing at me. I felt uncomfortable."
When I arrived at the summit of the hill, she asked me to stop for a few minutes. It was still raining. She was socked and the outer layer of clothes were shaping the inner garments. As I stopped the bike on the side of the road, she dismounted and ran into the bush. I assumed that she went for pee. Then I walked the other side of the road, hide behind a tree and peed. Then I came back to the bike and looked around, but could not she her. I thought she  was still taking a shit in the bush. I waited more than 20 minutes, however she never returned. With a hesitation, I walked into the bush where she was heading, looked around but could not see her. There was a narrow long strroad leading to the small village. I had a sense of being cheated. She told me that she was going to Deurali and it was not even a half way through. Why did she lie me? Why she ran away with out telling me that she was going away and would not return?
I hold my backpack and mounted on the bike. As I started the engine, two sketchy guys stopped by my side. 
" Did you see a girl on the way?" one of them asked putting his hat backward.
I quickly assessed the  situation and sensed something fishy.  
"No". 
They looked each other and drove down the hill towards Pharping. I drove ahead slowly.  

As I was moving ahead dangling left and right, I felt the wheels stuck in the mud. I thought it was the rear tire which was flat because I had put a patch on it before. I sensed something danger while moving ahead. One guy who was just ahead of me pulled over his bike and let me go ahead looking at me strangely. It made my head rubble for a while. In the mean time I felt my bike wiggle
d than before. I pulled over and parked on the edge of the road. This time the front tire was flat.

I was standstill. I looked at the passerby and so did they. I was confused what to do. There was no workshop nearby. In front of me the road was steep and dangerous. There was a workshop at Sisneri, but it was about 15 kilometer far. If I returned, I would go to Pharping which was 5 K.M far. It was mid Chhaimale villege and I had no idea about workshop in that area. Wherever I would go, I had to replace the tube because I could not push the bike up to the workshop and riding on would not be a safe and also could case more damage to the wheel. I checked the wallet and found only three hundred rupee. In that area, tube replacement might cost at least 500. I phoned my wife and told about the situation. New alternatives bubbled in the head,  “Why not to borrow some money fromthe driver of "Hamro Sumo" since I knew most of the drivers” …“‘No’ it would be embarrassing.”  I remembered a line from the poem I read two days before, “stop thinking and end your problem…problem is the seed of solution.” I decided to return to Farping ( Dakhchhinkali) where I could change tube and also took some money from ATM.

On the way to  Pharping, around 3 KM’s distant, I found a mechanic who could paste puncture stickers over the hole on the tube. “I wished I had more money.”  “if only I had a friend,” and so on. He carried a tool bag and a lifting wooden log. On the side of the road, he started his work. As he removed the tyre from the wheel, he took out the tube like an intestine from the goat’s belly. Then he inflated it with a hand pump. He took out his tongue and put it close to the tube. 
“Here it is”, he grinned at me with the foolscap of his yellow teeth. He rubbed over the leak and pasted puncture tube over it. Again he inflated the tube and observed it with his very sensitive tongue. “Here too”, he gathered the skin of his forehead where stood a whole tree. 
He observed more and discovered more holes. I asked him to change the tube without asking the cost. He informed me that it cost more. I asked, “How much it costs?” “Do you have five hundred?” he looked at me as if I was a criminal just escaped from the jail. I became polite more than necessary and told him that I had just three hundred. I also told him that I could pay him on the next Friday if he favoured me. He shook his head for “NO”. “Then paste more tubes and make it run please. Otherwise, I have to go Kathmandu to bring money”, I pleaded him. But my will power was telling me, “calm down, all will be well”.

Then, the mechanic man, a middle aged stout man in his rags, asked me to bring a tube from the thrash nearby. There were many tubes thrown in the rubbish. I looked around and quickly picked up one and gave him. There were already pasted tubes over it. Then he went himself mumbling. He took one of them and inflated. He examined it minutely. He said something but I couldn’t catch quietly. He moved to the water drum and dipped it. As he returned from there, I could notice an unusual glow in his face. “ Do you have 500?”, he asked me again. “I told you already ‘Hajur’I just have three hundred.” This is a new tube which I kept there this morning by mistake”, he said. I understood the situation. I didn’t speak a word for a while. He put the tube in the tyre and inflated it. Then, he fixed it on the bike.  “When will you come?”  He asked. He was also telling me that some Madhesis had betrayed him earlier. I understood his intention that he was taking the tyre from the thrash and selling me in a full price. I couldn’t say anything because I didn’t have any other options. Surprisingly, the tube was alright.

After he made the tyre ready, I handed him three hundred and asked him to return 50 rupees; so that I could pay road taxes on the way. He returned me 50 and asked my phone no. When I told him the number, he took a piece of stone and rubbed it over another flat stone making shapes of my mobile number. I offered the lip-service with sugarcoated words and moved on my way. I checked the wheel twice in a very short distance to know whether it had a flat. 

Then I headed towards Sisneri. There were people gathered in one of the hotels. I pulled over and craned my neck screening the mass. I was shocked seeing one of the girl in the police handcuffs. Three Police officers were on the scene and around 50 onlookers. It did not take me long to recognize the girl who just an hour before was on my back seat.

I asked some of the onlookers if they knew the reason why she was being arrested. Everyone was beating around the bush, but nobody knew the truth.

Dark cloud was hovering in the sky and could still hear the thunderstorm. 

I put the raincoat back on and continued driving. The image of the innocent looked girl occupied the mind like a shadow. The girl whom I first saw as a school girl, innocent and the most beautiful, now turned to be some ugly frightening image. 

"Did she break in someone's house?, Did she commit a murder,or she is a drug dealer?" 

Those questions keep bugging mind. I never found the answer. A huge rock rolled down to the river right from my nose. I stopped and looked up the hill where mud was still sliding. I quickly accelerated and crossed the landslide. 

I stopped at the a hotel in Kulekhani.     

There was none. I felt mixed emotions; happy and sad till I reached home at 6 p.m. It was the first time I had my bike punctured on the way ‘Hetauda- Kathmandu.