I rediscovered the joy of riding a bicycle and its profound connection to my past. It reminded me that life is a continuous journey, where balance can only be maintained by embracing new experiences and moving forward. As I pedaled, my mind filled with gratitude for the lessons learned and the memories that would forever shape my perspective on life

 

Sound Mind in Sound Body - Mens Sana in Corpore Sano
By C. Naseer Ahmad
Washington, DC

"Life is like riding a bicycle. To maintain your balance, you must keep moving," these insightful words were reportedly spoken by the brilliant Albert Einstein. However, recently, I found myself particularly moved by a Latin phrase, "mens sana in corpore sano," which translates to "a sound mind in a sound body." These words resonated deeply with me during a friend's inaugural address as the Club president.

Perhaps it was the inspiring example set by my friend or the anticipation of my son's upcoming visit for Eid from Houston, but one day, after completing all of my meetings, I made a spontaneous decision to visit the Bike Lane in Reston, Virginia. On arriving, I approached Mark, a kind gentleman working at the counter, and explained that I simply wished to try out a bicycle in the parking lot. With great faith, he adjusted the seat to match my height and handed me a bicycle.

After just a few tries at pedaling, the wheels began to lose their balance. In a matter of seconds, I found myself warmly embraced by the pavement and the grass on the side. Against all odds, my body instinctively reacted, stretching out my arm to push the ground away and refusing to succumb so easily.

"Are you alright?" inquired a man standing nearby, concerned.

"I'm perfectly fine," I responded, determined not to let anything hinder my bicycling adventure that day. Luckily, my trusty Apple Watch remained silent, kindly sparing me from a mocking reminder of my fall.

As I regained my composure and pedaled, comfortably navigating around the turns and down the lane, an unfamiliar sensation washed over me, one I hadn't experienced in over 60 years. My mind transported me back to a day when I was almost nine years old. It was around 3 p.m., just like this day, and while the rest of my family slumbered, I seized the golden opportunity to ride my father's Raleigh bicycle. However, there were obstacles to overcome. The seat was too high for my stature, and my legs were too short to reach the pedals. Nonetheless, I refused to let these minor setbacks deter me from the goal of riding the bicycle before the sun set on that spring day in 1961.

Arms outstretched, gripping the handlebar, I commenced the journey, rolling the bicycle and placing my left foot on the left pedal. Just as today, that blissful June afternoon ended with me swiftly returning to the pavement. A tad bruised, yet undeterred, I remained convinced that if I could manage to place my right foot on the other pedal, the bicycle would keep on moving. Fall after fall, I met the ground with determination, replicating the experience of that first attempt. However, with each tumble, the bicycle propelled a little further. Despite accumulating bruises, I persevered until I finally discovered the art of balancing the bicycle just before sunset. That day forever holds a cherished place in my memory as one of the most exhilarating moments of my life.

As the borrowed bicycle gracefully glided down the lanes, passing parked cars in a Reston, Virginia parking lot, enchanting memories of my father and grandfather flooded my thoughts. I recalled what my grandfather told me how his fellow residents of the then Kharian village marveled at his 'iron horse,' or as they fondly referred to it in Punjabi, 'lohay da ghora.' He had started using it as his mode of transportation, instead of his horse, from Kharian to the high school in Sarai Alamgir, Jhelum, about ten miles away, where he served as the headmaster. In those early 1900s era, ten miles was a long distance as most people never went beyond the boundaries of their villages. And, today Kharian is a small city home to one of the key army corps.

A vivid recollection took me back to a day when darkness stubbornly clung to dawn, as my father dressed in his finest suit, ready to depart for Lahore Airport on that very same bicycle. My mother's younger brother rode in the backseat alongside him, as it was his duty to return the bicycle from the airport. While we had previously owned a Ford Consul car, my father had likely sold it in anticipation of a new chapter in his life. He was embarking on a venture into the private sector, bidding farewell to the security offered by life in the army. This early morning bicycle ride to Lahore Airport would prove to be life-changing for my father and our entire family. Trained as a civil engineer in the Army Corps of Engineers and possessing remarkable people skills, my father possessed the qualities sought after by the company overseeing the Indus River Basin projects. That interview was successful; he was hired and achieved astounding success, all while lending a helping hand to thousands in Gujrat district where he was born.

As I completed each lap around the parking lot, a rush of fond memories engulfed me - the beautiful connections and meaningful experiences with the families my father helped during my adventures across different continents. In that seemingly compact space, covering no more than two miles, I embarked on a remarkable journey that took me across the globe and gifted me with countless cherished decades.

In that parking lot, I rediscovered the joy of riding a bicycle and its profound connection to my past. It reminded me that life is a continuous journey, where balance can only be maintained by embracing new experiences and moving forward. As I pedaled, my mind filled with gratitude for the lessons learned and the memories that would forever shape my perspective on life.