Somebody deflated Scoot's tyre. Again!

It's not something you're supposed to make fun of. Okay? -_-

Yes, I knew there's going to be something that would go wrong. You think I don't feel guilty all those times? A professor's words ring in my ear each morning, whenever I do the deed, a little guiltily. This is what he said, "There's nothing called a free lunch in this world" and these are the precise words that roll over in my head, just before I brush them off, each time accompanied by a chant in the name of God. I'm not used to breaking rules, after all. However high on corruption my country might be. But still. Sometimes the easier way has its own pull and you get addicted to it, especially if it works. Most of the time, anyway.

The last time it happened, Scoot was carefully parked outside a Raymond's showroom. As soon as I put it on it's hind stand, packed the silver/grey helmet in, (I still haven't found the perfect purple helmet. Someone gift it to me please?) I made a mental note of admiration for the thing that had such a big role in shaping my personality to some extent; that of an independent, brave and appreciative girl. If I could, I would have stood there till eternity, smiling proudly at Scoot. But for one, I was "obviously" getting late for college and two, despite the fact that I have dollops of weirdness-awesomeness in me, it's not always a good idea to show-off. People are useless in terms of understanding it, because. 

See how BEAUTIFUL she is? :')

So as I walked away, those words making me squirm with guilt, I did not look back and prayed. Apologies and a plea for safety. After the usual day as I paced towards Scoot and finding it safe, breathed a sigh of relief, little did I know that the relief was somewhat short-lived. It took two rolls of the tyres to make me realize that the back tyre was flat. Either punctured somehow or someone deflated it. Since I was anyway high on guilt, I dragged Scoot with an anxious heart, driving at a snail's pace. Of course I knew that you're not supposed to drive with a flat tyre, but what was the alternative? The nearest petrol pump was ten minutes away, near my place.

*Fast-forward to today* 

I didn't leave dear Scoot anywhere near that showroom again, of course. (Happy Mr. Moron-Raymond? -_-) I found a new place. Still guilt-ridden, though. And it feels even worse because I leave Scoot in a rush, not wanting anyone to see me like that, doing the deed. I stopped turning back to look, like you usually do with loved ones. Of course she'd feel betrayed. She still didn't allow me to bear the brunt of my mistakes. Like a real friend, she kept it to herself, strained herself when I should have been paying a bit more attention. She never let me have any problem. Even today when she was hurt, it wasn't "me" who was the victim. It was Scoot.

Those words had floated in my mind, again. I brushed them off, again. Prayed, again. Had the usual day in college, again. I paced again, like every evening, cleaned the seat of dust, just to find a bum-pattern already in place. Seriously? The major disadvantage of leaving Scoot on it's back-stand is that it becomes easy for welle people to sit on it and chat or whatever. Although I'm all for social service, I'd still mind getting weird patterns on Scoot. At least wipe it off, you. -_-

The doubt began as soon as Scoot was on both it's ... tyres and felt heavier than usual. By the time I drove for a couple of seconds, it was clear: Somebody deflated Scoot's tyre. Again! And I most certainly did not appreciate it. Not even knowing it might have been my mistake because seriously, why JUST Scoot? A lot of people are to be blamed as well, but why target Scoot? She's the most innocent two-wheeler ever! Belonging to the most innocent rider! 

Wanting to just reach home safely, I rode Scoot way below the minimum speed possible, watching the world, including cyclists and jay-walkers pass by quicker than I was moving. Would you call me crazy if I say it was actually fun? And funny? Have you ever been on a two-wheeler with a deflated tyre? Not that it is recommended, because, like I imagined, the tyre might come out completely and you'd fall, or in some cases, burst. And you wouldn't know what happened and although I have a very active imagination, that was something I dared not imagine. Anyway, it's funny because the vehicle moves in a very...... "jumpy" way. I was hopping on Scoot, without actually hopping. :P Just because the tyre wobbled and I was sitting on the moving vehicle. (Again, it is not recommended. Be more alert, unlike me. And use your brain and go to the nearby tyre-walla, ten metres away, instead of the petrol pump, ten minutes away).

It was kind of weird, not zooming past everything. I saw real people, like, live. They looked so... people-like. Normal. They still exist. o.O And they're not really as mean as I believed them to be. No one really cared to stare at a girl hopping past them, even though I must have looked really funny. I mean, of course I was! I wanted to get off Scoot, clap and laugh at myself! Just that I couldn't!

Taking more than double the usual time, I managed to stop at the tyre-setter outside the petrol pump. Feeling grateful to the bhaiyya who made Scoot stand up solid, once again. Assuring me too, that she isn't punctured. :') Considering how Scoot did not let me down by breaking down herself in the middle of an extremely busy main road, despite the fact that she "desperately" needed petrol since forever (eeeps!), I have to say I'm proud of her! :') As a treat, I made the petrol-guy fill in double the usual amount of awesome petrol. :P

The only thing now is, I'm confused. Should I still take the easy way out and endanger Scoot? Again? Or should I make the extra effort and get up early and make it harder for me, instead of for her? The sin I've been committing? Not keeping Scoot in the metro parking, because the main area is under construction for more than two years now and it was a pain to park in that cramped, uncomfortable and extremely far-for-comfort parking. I had been parking it just next to the metro station. Un-allotted space. For free. 

Really, there's nothing called a free lunch in this world. *Sigh*