Published: February 19, 2017

The bicycles kept ringing. PHOTO: TUMBLR.

Memories are sprung up again, like something thick emerging through the air,
All the times our bicycles with broken rings crackled on through the friscalating sunset, in infinite happiness,
All the times our worn out, unpolished shoes kept us out of the classroom talking for hours,
All the times the eraser at the end of the scale lobbed into the free wind, showing who was more powerful

All the times our collars were held in a grasping fist by our very own,
All the times report cards were burnt to a crisp, in rebellion again all the mental oppression,
All the times we came to school with a black eye, still sore, but slowly healed as our conversation was a medicine more powerful than any other,
All the times we bunked classes because we knew that after 20 years; it wouldn’t be the numbers but the words that we remembered,

All the times society rejected us but our true acceptance still lay on each other’s shoulders,
All the times, through all the really tough times, we still joined our wallets just as we did our hearts,
All the times we stood next to each other, in perfect unison, as men stepping out and making a life for themselves,
All the times we took our wives hands and said our vows and that one look made us believe we were making the right decision,

All the times we saw our children going to kindergarten and tried to control each other’s tears,
All the times we fought with our wives and still found a haven in each other’s company,
All the times we cried on each other’s shoulders when our parents passed away,
All the times we knew that nothing made us more happy than knowing the other was,

All the times we sat on the porch and watched as the sun sank into the ocean,
All the times you got sick and the seat next to your bed was reserved for me,
All the times I was asked why I stayed by your side, knowing the inevitable was around the corner,
All the times I cried on your grave and yet was happy that you were in a better place,
And during all of this, the only thing that kept me alive was the fact that,

The bicycles kept ringing…
The bicycles kept ringing…

Afnan Durrani

Afnan Durrani

The author is currently doing his A-Levels from Cedar College. His interests include poetry, economics, basketball and alot of Indie music.

The views expressed by the writer and the reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of The Express Tribune.