Every body knows that Hindol is a bike rider in Berlin. Nothing is unusual about biking here. Every body on wheels, life is fast, and bike gives freedom. Pollution free, good communication, I liked the concept. I miss it in Kolkata.

So on the second day of these two months stay in Berlin I bought a bike. But, you know, fund was limited, so I bought it from a second hand shop. Idea was, I need a bike, that’s it, I care a hung whether it is used or not. It was useful that was the only concern for me. Friends said that it is a stolen one, may be they were true. But all over Berlin I traveled on those wheels. Even in woods I dared to go deep because of the bike. Deepa, Hang and Yen know how stupid I am about the Berlin U-Bahn plan, where as I was reasonably okay to find the way out with the help of city map and my famous bike.

I discovered on the mudguard there was small metal plate, there was written “globe trotter”, even on one of the rods too, enhanced my pride, I noticed that it was bought from Holland and it had a number on the front rod, all red. My mother’s favorite color, so cool, and happily 55 euro slipped out from my pocket.

But I really missed to notice that this was low height bike, probably for women. And the metal stand which was supposed to attach from the main structure was broken. However wheels and paddles and chains and gears were fine, they never revolted against my mishandling. But when I wanted to say adieu to my beloved bike and wished my money back, I saw what mess I did. The verkauf shop from where I bought the bike straightly refused to buy it back, because it was a children’s bike.

“What? But when I was buying from you and asked why it looks different you did not tell me the truth! This is not done.”

But they were sticky to their stand. So, I thought, my 55 euro gone to drain. Came back home, Wannek with whom I share my apartment in Wedding told me that I have still hope, and should try some bike shops, I tried, Wannek also tried his best, we went to kreuzberg, Schonefield, Friedrichain, Hackeshar Markt where not, but no, Nicht. The bike became burden. And I already realized that only 10 euro be back out of it.

Eventually one Pakistani verkauf shop-owner voluntarily agreed to give me 25 euros for this stolen (?) bike. However, he noted down my passport number and address details. I am anxious. But feeling guts because he is a man of same region, may be troubling neighbor, but still speaks almost same language, shares the same trouble, terrorism.

(from Hindol)