The Bike Stunt

Fakru was kind-hearted and always willing to lend a hand to those in need. He was our neighbour and worked as a mason. One day, my friend Gururaja and I decided to learn how to ride a bicycle, so we went to Fakru and asked him if we could borrow his old bike. Fakru, being the generous man he was, agreed to let us borrow the bike so that we return it in an hour.
Excitedly, Gururaja and I walked the bike to our school playground to practice riding it. The warm sun beat down on us as we took turns pedalling around the field. The wind whipped through our hair, and our laughter echoed across the space. It was a joyous and carefree time, filled with excitement and the thrill of learning something new.
As promised, we were on our way back to return the bike to Fakru after our practice session. But then, something unexpected happened. Instead of walking the bike back to Fakru’s house, I tested my newly acquired bike-riding skills. Gururaja followed me on his feet as I started riding the bike on the road.
All was going well until we turned the corner to enter our lane. Suddenly, I saw a bullock cart heading towards us. My heart raced as I tried to steer the bike away from the oncoming cart, but it was too late. The bullocks went amok and dragged the carriage to the left. I felt a sharp pain in my ankle as I tumbled off the bike, and warm blood ran down my legs as I hit the ground.
In the chaos that followed, I heard shouting and people running. Gururaja had disappeared, and I was alone amid the commotion. I could barely breathe as I lay on the road, trying not to cry. Through the blur of tears, I saw a kind face leaning over me. A passerby had come to my aid, offering a hand to help me. I was surprised to learn about the bike’s twisted handle and rear tyre condition.
As the passerby helped me limp home, I felt mixed emotions. I was scared, embarrassed, and in pain. I was also profoundly sorry for the trouble I had caused Fakru, who had trusted me to take care of his bike. I knew I deserved the scolding from my father, but it didn’t make the pain in my ankle or the cuts on my knees any easier to bear.
I couldn’t attend school the next week because of my injuries, and Fakru had to walk to work. I was filled with guilt and regret, knowing that my actions had caused so much inconvenience to Fakru. But I was also grateful for the experience and the kindness of the passerby who had helped me in my time of need. That day, I learned an important life lesson: All my actions have consequences and being responsible and considerate of others is essential.