There is much to share. Let’s get the ugly out of the way first.

I was trying to make sense of what was happening after I reached home post the accident. After few days when I could get some coherence, I asked Srini as how did he get the news?

He got a call from the organisers that I had a small accident, nothing serious, just minor scrapes and to come to this hospital in Vikarabad. Srini said the moment he walked in, he was shocked to see my condition and the people who called him were nowhere to be seen.

In my mind at that time was this reasoning when Srini was telling me, yes of course when you call an emergency contact you don’t cause panic in the person saying she is unconscious and it’s bad, you tell the news gently. It’s a basic etiquette people follow.

But what Srini said next surprised me. After 5 minutes or so, two guys came and when Srini asked, how is she? What did the doctors say? They gave the file to him, told him to check with the doctor about my condition and they with Srini loaded my cycle and whatever was left of it into his car and left. My reaction was really? and Srini nodded a grim Yes. They didn’t wait to explain anything, it’s like they meant, it’s your headache, we are off.

Then 2 days after the accident, they messaged Srini saying they paid a certain amount for the initial hospital emergency with the receipt as proof and they sent a phone number to make sure he transferred the money which he did immediately. They acknowledged the payment and it was done. No checking if I am ok.

What was my reaction? Nothing really. Neither anger nor sadness. My take was, they don’t know me, I don’t know them, Done and dealt.

I would be an idiot expecting them to ask about me because really, some of whom I considered good friends didn’t do it so who were they? They wanted to get out of this mess as soon as possible.

And later, I came to know that 10 cyclists riding in the same event, when they reached back the end point were seething with anger. The bad route, the way it was disorganised, chaotic, my accident, a whole lot of complaints and shouting, ready to pounce on them pointing out all the mistakes. So what happened?

The two organisers rather than facing the music kept a representative, a young guy at the end point, so he had took all the rap. They didn’t turn up.

A few cyclists told me to officially complain about the club to Audax India. It’s high time they said, they should be banned they said, I had to give a testimonial with proof as the pics were there, they told me to create a ruckus on social media so the cycling community knew. But here is the thing.

Did I want to waste my time? complain on social media and create a scene? If there is one thing the accident showed me is that time is running out. Choose what is worthy and what is not. And this one isn’t.

I am not riding with the club ever and I am taking a break from endurance cycling for sometime.

Is it fear? It is. Is it anger? Definitely. Will I give up cycling? No way.

I am starting from zero and zero is beautiful. I am starting with a clean slate.

I took my cycle with the back wheel tire torn apart and gears broken and got it replaced by my trusted mechanic who with a shock looking at me, said, ‘ Ma’am you are getting this bicycle fixed now? in this condition of yours?’ I told him, Sharifbhai, this bicycle is me, I am repairing it just like I am repairing myself. It will start slow like me but it won’t stop.

I want to have fresh good memories. I placed the repaired cycle on the indoor smart trainer ready to start.

There is also my sturdy mountain bike in the living room that was telling me to take it for a short ride.

And I did just that last week, to face it head on, so with all the pains and groans I got on to the cycle and went around in the colony, panicking, stopping immediately even when a bike whizzed past me from a distance. I was turning my stiff tight neck to the right to see if I will get hit..

I kept saying to myself as I cycled painfully slow, ‘Swapna this crash, this accident won’t happen again, you know it’ and then another voice creeped in, ‘ but a different kind of accident is possible’. So I battled it and cycled for 20 minutes coming home a wrangled mess shivering. I cried silently tears rolling down as to how much I loved and feared it at the same time.

I will try again this week. Ground zero it is.

I had to face proof of what happened to something tangible that was in front of me. It was the pounded cycling helmet from the accident kept at a distance on the desk.

I didn’t have the courage until then to touch it but I finally held and turned it, I saw the insides was caked with dry blood, my blood. The sides of the helmet, dry blood. I looked at my shoes, again dry blood stains. The shoes are in the corner staring at me and I haven’t cleaned it yet.

Even though I threw my torn cycling clothes that had blood all over it in the garbage I didn’t want to throw away the helmet.

I watch it once a while, it will remind me that nothing is permanent. Sure we all know that. But this is a living proof of it and most importantly this helmet saved my life, my head, my skull, my brain.

And during this time right after my accident I had three ladies helping me. They go beyond being my nutritionist, physiotherapist and therapist. With empathy, with acknowledgment and listening in, they have been there.

My nutritionist is a close friend, who has been checking on me every time, worries about me, listens patiently when I pour out my angst.

All three understand when I share what I feel physically, encouraging me to walk/ jog, stretch, my excruciating pain in the ribs and numb taste buds and making me aware of the rigidity and rules I strictly adhered to before.

The common thread among them is telling me to look ahead and if any problem or issues that will come up physically, mentally, emotionally, we are here to help you deal with it, worry not.

It’s not a coincidence that all are women. Everyone needs a woman’s touch and care. ❤️

I gravitated from the ugly to the bad to the good, didn’t I?

What do I have in store next? I don’t know. The organiser that I was before, scheduling my morning routine to my fitness to etc etc etc on a daily basis went out of the window.

As I end this I share a picture that I refused to look at until now. A picture of that day clicked by another cyclist using my phone one hour before the accident.

It was at a lake. My fellow cyclists insisted I must have one for memory and what a memory it is. Isn’t it?

I leave you with this pic. Till I write again 💜