My Pink Bicycle

‘Ha! My cute pink coloured bicycle.’

I think about it with excitement as I bought it myself and the experience was partially funny and partially heart warming, it also taught me something profound.

In Japan cars are very expensive to keep due to the most expensive parking space. And because my husband had an accident and couldn’t buy the groceries anymore. I needed a way to commute and I decided to buy a bicycle.

‘Hmm, but I don’t know Japanese. How will I explain him things’ I told my husband seriously.
‘Well you need to go. I can’t come along I have an injury’ he replied.

I started from my house like a warrior already sure of loosing the battle evaluating all pros and cons, how will I communicate? Language barrier is too big to break. It’s not US or UK where I can flaunt my English and get the work done. Whoof ! Of all the places in the world I had to come to Japan, that too to buy a bicycle. I felt like going back home. Then thought may be this was my destiny. I walked with baby steps thinking not about the colours of the bicycle to buy but ways to communicate my need. I thought to use my time in preparation till I reach the place which was fifteen minutes away by walk.

I was about to reach there when I saw two girls riding Pink bicycles.
‘Wow! So cute’ I thought.
The heart of the little girl inside me felt attracted towards the stereotypical clichéd girly colour ‘Pink’.

Just then I had a street to cross before I actually start fighting the war and cutting the language barrier with my sword and win the bicycle in booty. I entered the shop and bowed in front of an elderly person at the workshop, thankfully he was in uniform and I could make out that he was the one who had to deal with me.

‘Sorry for the bad day I am going to give you. Uncle!’ I whispered to myself.
I felt sorry for him. Somehow in India everybody at the shops become uncles for us. May be because we still do not relate this word to our family the way it should be. We still feel close to our relatives only when we call our Chachas as Chachu and Mamas as Mama Ji. So, automatically every outsider becomes uncle or sometimes Bhaiya which works more as a safety tactic for us.

‘I’ll take a whole day to explain him what I wanted’ I thought

And what about, ‘how much was it for? And which colour and how should I make the payment?’ These questions were lying untouched still…
‘Does it need so many questions to buy a thing? ’ I thought sadly.

The guy in the green uniform was looking like a father of two, a little flabby and short. He had a working tool in his left hand which he was using to fix up someone’s loose screw in the bicycle’s handle, the customer gave him a coin and left. I thought if I don’t explain him well he’ll use it to fix my screw too. And I pictured him tightening the screw of my left temple. But, he had soft expressions in his eyes which made me comfortable. But, what do I do with the comfort? I had to start.

Suddenly, I thought I should tell him that I am a foreigner and I don’t know Japanese. ‘What an idea Sir Ji?’
But, at the same time I thought that my face very well explains that I am one.
‘What a fool I am?’

Say something…

I looked around and found some bicycles lying at my back with price tags. I had to buy a maximum of a 12,000 yen worth. With sparkling eyes I pointed out to the place. As if telling him I want one of those. He got confused as I got to know later from my husband that Japanese people usually get confused once you ask too many questions or don’t explain yourself clearly. Moreover, they somehow feel shy in front of foreigners because they don’t understand English which they do learn in school. But can only say ‘My name is Yousuke’. And when they see us learning just a few basic Japanese words in two or three months they feel that we have achieved something big and they appreciate in wonder. (Please note: these people are too polite to make fun of anybody. Conversely, just imagine a Japanese girl caught up in the same situation in India.)

So, the confused father of two, I mean the bicycle seller looked at me and said something really fast. I thought I wish I could tell him that first I don’t know the language and second please stop embarrassing me and understand that these words that you are saying won’t help. I thought why is it that even when we know that the other person can not understand our language we still keep talking, as if speaking to ourselves. To tell you the truth it is very frustrating.

I went towards the place where the bicycles were kept for sale I looked around and I selected two of them one silver and the other pink. The rates were written large on them so I knew which ones were under my range.

I called him with a gesture of my hand which is considered quite impolite here, but I had no option as I had to go home on the bicycle. He came to me and I pointed at those two, simultaneously thinking of ways of explaining him that I wanted to know the differences between the two I liked.

‘What a task!!!’ I thought.

Just then intelligently though, may be he understood that one girl alone can not come to buy two bicycles so, he sat down to explain me with his hand gestures that the tyre of one was thicker than the other and the rim was bigger than the other. And he made it clear by making his right thumb erect in a ‘thumbs-up’ way that the pink one was better for girls.

I was relieved that even after not knowing the language I compared the two and I am buying the better one. I took the Pink bicycle to the counter thereby signaling that I wanted that one. I managed to hold the bicycle with one hand and give him money with the other.

To my surprise he said something to me and took away the bicycle also refused the money. I got confused.
I thought ‘what a day! I already am confused about the deal. Why are more confusions popping in?’

He constantly spoke to me for a minute without bothering about my expressions of total incomprehension. I thought I wish I knew his language I would have told him.
‘Can’t you see I am a foreigner and I don’t get a single word of what you are saying???’

‘Huh! What does he want? I am paying him, I have selected the bicycle even then this person is not letting me take it.’

I was lost in my reverie and it broke when somebody in the shop came and took the bicycle and disappeared. I thought to myself that may be that day was not meant to get the bicycle and I didn’t want one, I was feeling nettled from constant teasers that were coming my way. After so much hassle I did not have energy enough to go and buy it from somewhere else. Instead of being happy about buying the bicycle I was anxious and stressed. I thought I should leave the place. I felt totally helpless.

I turned my back and started to leave. Suddenly, he called me from the back; I felt frustrated to the core and wanted to blast off at him. And with very sad, angry, irked, irritated expressions(all in one) I turned back and saw that he stood with the bicycle and had a childlike smile on his face, as if he was much more happy selling the bicycle to me than I was for buying it.

Ooooo, then I realized. He took the bicycle inside to check it and then after going through the checks he delivered it to me. I gave him the money which he very gracefully accepted. He then very lightly put a pat on the seat of the bicycle, signaling me to sit. I sat on it with a very bright face and he pushed me from the back. There I went with speed on the pavement on my booty of the battle I won, I looked back only to find him looking at me with a smile and waving a good bye. How elated I was to see that fatherly touch of happiness in his twinkling eyes. I smiled back at him acknowledging his patience. I felt bad for misunderstanding him in the hurry of understanding him or may be in annoyance of being unable to make myself understood.

Then I realized that I was wrong in thinking that language is too big a barrier to break. All world is a family and all states and countries but different towns like Chandini Chowk and Cannaught Place are to Delhi, all parts of one single whole. There is something that connects us all and elevates us from all barriers, which is our humanity, our feelings which remain the same everywhere, every person feels angry when insulted and happy when loved and respected.

Rightly said, ‘All World is One Family’.

‘Vasudhev Kutumbakam’