I picked up my helmet, and stood near the door trying to remember if i had packed everything i needed for the bike ride. My mom stood beside me still trying to convince me from not taking the bike to visit my village.
"You'll spend atleat two days on bed, trying to recover from the back ache, you'll have from riding the bike" she said handing me a bottle of water.
I looked at her and smiled and said "Mom, we have had this conversation like thousand times now. I am taking my bike, it's just 350 Kms." I replied putting my helmet on.
She was still not happy that i choose to ride than take the bus. I looked at her and gave an assuring smile and shouted "Don't worry, i'll give you a call as soon as i reach grand dad's place."
She smiled back, but the smile had glimpses of worry and fear in it. I waved at her as i kick started my bike, and rode towards Bagamandala.
Bagamandala is a small village in the far end of Coorg. A village with not more than 100 houses was the birth place of me and my mom. i had last visited the place when i was 6, about 16 years back and I had no clear memory of that visit.
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