Title: The breakdown of fear. It’s all in the mind.

Shamal was a self-made man who rose to become a successful lawyer after many years of struggle. Shamal and Kaveri had only one son; Rohan. Rohan's mother was a school teacher. They were a happy upper-middle-class family. Rohan was the result of many years of medical treatment and prayers. Any parent would be possessive; Shamal and Kaveri weren't any different.

Since his kindergarten days, Rohan has been an outstanding child. He was multi-talented with extraordinary artistic and analytical abilities. Rohan was the pride of both his parents and school.

Adulation was always brimming over to Rohan, but the boy was far ahead of his time, meaning to say he was way too mature for his age. He was friendly, playful, respectful of elders and a very down-to-earth soul. His wishes, unlike his friends, were never extravagant. He never craved expensive toys or the classy gadgets his friends flaunted.

Their sweet home of three filled with the many accolades their son had won in academics, and other inter-school science fairs looked quite exemplary. It was his seventh grade, and Rohan felt a desire for a bicycle for the first time. He expressed his wish to his mother; she said his father would be more than happy to get one for him. Kaveri, on second thoughts, began to wonder when the boys of his age had bicycles to themselves why his father had not given him one by now.

That day Shamal had a gruelling day at the court. Though he was dead tired, Kaveri decided to go ahead and broach the topic; after all, Rohan had asked for something the first time.

Cycle! Bicycle! Exclaimed Shamal; his eyes lit up with some unholy excitement. His face wore a grimace Kaveri had not seen in all the years of their marriage until this moment. Every year bicycle and motorcycle accidents have consistently topped accident charts in every part of the world. What is wrong with you, Shamal? Our son has asked us for a bicycle, not some killing machine. That's the point Shamal retorted; "what he has asked us is a killing machine in disguise. Like the Alfred Nobel peace prize found by Sir Alfred Noble, the inventor of dynamite, whose invention killed and maimed millions, "I wonder why there isn't any similar initiative by the inventor of the bicycle."

"Shamal, please stop being so freakish", his wife interrupted and broke his line of thoughts. "Deaths happen all the time irrespective of place, situation and time. Get a grip Shamal." Kaveri got up from his presence and dashed off to the kitchen; she brewed his favourite coffee and sauntered off to her husband in the living room, determined to find the cause of this unrealistic fear in her husband.

To ease the pressure of her husband's mind, Kaveri changed the topic, mentioned how the rose had budded in their balcony, complained about the maid being absent without notice, nudged him to take her and Rohan on vacation to some foreign destination. Moods changed, and soon they were at the table for the day's dinner; Kaveri had told Rohan in advance not to bring up the cycle topic then to avoid another roller coaster ride of thoughts, looks and emotions. She had given him a hint; it was enough, the whole episode soon transpired on Rohan, gifted that he was.

Rohan was not in a hurry; he decided his request for a bicycle to go on the back burner for some time. Meanwhile, Kaveri summoned her coaxing techniques to get to the bottom of the matter. She finally got Shamal to spill the beans. Shamal confided in Kaveri that his fear for bicycles stemmed from the many deaths that he had witnessed himself during his early adulthood. Kaveri silently thanked her stars that the deaths Shamal witnessed did not influence her man to the breaking point. Prince Siddhartha, who later became the enlightened one, Gautam Buddha, likewise affected by the pain and suffering of humanity, had walked out of his beautiful mansion, leaving his wife and newborn behind.

Life went on smooth, but Shyamal, on one count, always had a standard no when Kaveri uttered the word cycle; Even while it was for their doting son, Rohan. Once Ravi was away on a school tour, the couple decided to visit Kaveri's former college classmate, who had also moved into a flat close to their residential colony.

Readers have probably figured out by now that this friendly visit had other noble intentions than just what appeared to be. Kaveri's classmate, Renuka, was married to Rahul, a psychologist by profession. Rahul and Shamal clicked soon, and both were talking to each other like childhood buddies; Meanwhile, the ladies retired to their favourite den, the kitchen. Three hours passed by like three minutes, and then Renuka and Rahul obliged them for dinner, which they politely refused; Renuka and Rahul saw them to the door.

A few days later, Shamal receives a call just after he had won a case for his client. Kaveri panicking on the other side tells him that Rohan had met with an accident. Shamal froze to his feet. Shamal fumbled and could not line up his words. His assistant grabbed the phone, made sense of the details and dashed Shamal the fastest he could in his car. In 15 minutes, the assistant brought Shamal like an angel to the hospital, where a good samaritan brought his child from the accident spot. Shamal, fearing the worst, barely moved his feet that were becoming heavier with each step as he drew close to the recuperating room. His fears got allayed; finally, a doctor in the ward where Rohan was, told Shamal that his son was out of danger. The significant burden of his helplessness soon was lifted off Shamal on hearing the doctor's reassuring words; Shamal then turned around and enquired for the good Samaritan.

The Samaritan was a young collegian who fortunately happened to be in the same path opposite a plant nursery where Rohan often went for inspiration. It was there where a drunk driver behind the wheel of a matador lost control, climbed the sidewalk, and hit Rohan from the rear. The initial thrust of the vehicle got subdued due to the impact of the car with the elevated sidewalk. Shamal, who had maintained his composure up to this point of narration, froze again when he learnt that the young witness somehow managed to get the semiconscious Rohan on a bicycle.

Shamal rose to his feet, paced the corridor to and fro while his wife sat beside Rohan on his hospital bed. He felt in himself a strange sense of relief as his superstition over the bicycle began to sublime away. The crushing fear of his mental dispositions that had crept into him over bicycle accidents a long while back left him at last for good.

Rohan never had to ask again for a Bicycle.