Speed Kills...

Yes, we all know that! We have seen so many instances of it in movies and real life. Yet our know-it-all attitude always makes up keep the throttle wide open.

“Dude, watch your speed!”

“Dude, you cannot cut him off like that!”

Dude this, dude that.

“Oh come on! As if I do not know what the hell I am doing? I always take calculated risks. Do not worry about me mate!” is the usual response. I personally hate it when people tell me how to ride my bike. Valuable suggestions they may be, but they can keep those to themselves. People who have had the opportunity to get behind me on my bike know what I am talking about!

But one day, it just had to happen. For it must have been time that I finally learnt my lesson. A fine cloudy morning it was, with a cool breeze brushing against my face. I was gliding along on the smooth shiny tarmac between the Guest House and Faculty Quarters at around 40 KMPH towards OBH when suddenly a chipmunk, trying to cross the road, came in front of my bike. There was very little time to apply the brakes, and so I tried steering myself clear of the tiny obstacle. After passing the chipmunk, I looked back to see if I was successful in doing so. To my shock, the poor thing was lying on its back, shaking its hind legs violently. I jumped off my bike immediately and ran towards it, and all the time I was thinking, “It might just be the tail, or a leg. I can take care of it as a pet if possible!”

Little did I know what horror was awaiting me. As I approached the scene, I noticed blood oozing out of the chipmunk’s nose and right eye socket from which the eye had popped out. The black silky looking tarmac had now turned red. And all the while its legs, all four of them, were shaking violently in the air, its heart beating wildly, trying to pump as much blood as possible to sustain life for a little while longer.

I just stood there helplessly, watching the mother die slowly. The mother who was probably going back to her kids, to feed them, to play with them, to freaking BE with them! And there was NO bloody thing that I could do. There was nothing anybody could do.

A minute had gone by, and the mother’s twitching started to slow down.

And then it stopped.

It was my first road kill, after a decade of riding a cycle, a scooter and a bike. As I touched the body hoping to see the mother spring back to life, I felt the warmth of the blood inside and the softness of the now limp body. Eyes filled with tears, I picked up the lifeless body and placed it near a small plant.

By the time I reached my room, the cool wind had cleared my eyes of the tears. I was however left with a dent in my mind and heart, that no paint job could ever cover up. The upcoming Sunday will mark its 1 week death anniversary…