A Friday Signal and a ride down the memory lane

One Friday evening, after wrapping up work, we stepped out to meet our friends. After all, it was Friday—and we desperately needed to bust the stress that had built up over the week. We were stuck at a signal, my eyes glued to Google Maps, watching the orange lines slowly turn deep red, while my mind worked overtime cooking up excuses to justify our inevitable delay.
Just then, my daughter pointed excitedly at a scooty beside us. A family was seated on it, father driving, one child standing confidently in front, and the other wedged snugly between the parents, kids trying to peep in the car and giggling! It was such a perfect “hamara Bajaj” moment. Her eyes lit up as she exclaimed, “Mumma, you also used to travel like this when you were a kid, right?”
And just like that, my mind travelled back in time—to my Patna days. I could almost feel those rides on Papa’s Vespa again. Me in the front and my brother squeezed between Ma and Papa, feeling invincible. Ah! That was real luxury. The wind teasing my hair, me happily reciting rhymes while Papa listened patiently. Sometimes he would explain theories, sometimes life lessons—lessons that quietly shaped me without me even realizing it.
Whether it was a ten-minute ride or an hour-long journey, Papa made sure I was always engaged, always curious, never drifting off to sleep. Life felt simple then, yet deeply magical. It was on those rides that concepts like inertia stopped being textbook jargon and started making sense in real life. And even while navigating the narrow, chaotic lanes of Patna, often as thrilling and challenging as a game of Road Rash, Papa ensured we were safe, protected by his calm confidence.
Back then, life didn’t demand much. There were no seatbelts, no air-conditioned cars, no carefully planned itineraries but there was laughter, warmth, and a sense of togetherness that wrapped around us like an invisible shield. Happiness wasn’t something we chased; it rode along with us, quietly seated on a moving scooter.
Today, as I sit in traffic staring at red lines on Google Maps, I realize that the richest journeys of my life had no maps at all. They were guided by love, conversations, and the belief that a simple life, when lived with heart, is a life full of happiness.