The Life Cycle of Ashutosh Tewari: A Cyclist’s Journey from Training Wheels to Talking Knees

By the grace of gears and the benevolence of brakes, allow me to present the epic, thigh-burning saga of Ashutosh Tewari(me)— a man whose relationship with the humble bicycle has outlasted School, NDA,  girlfriends (if any), and even his pain of knee surgery. 

Chapter 1: The School/Training-Wheel Days

It all began on a sturdy Atlas cycle with training wheels that squeaked louder than a conspiracy theory WhatsApp group. Little Me, in Whites in School and a heart full of mischief, rode through the bylanes of childhood, dodging buffalo dung, aunties,puddle potholes and the occasional kite-string ambush.

The cycle was freedom. It was rebellion. It was speed — at a breathtaking 7 kmph. It was also the only vehicle where the horn didn’t work but your mouth did: “SIDE DEY BHAIYA!”

Chapter 2: The NDA Ninja

Enter the National Defence Academy: where bicycles weren't just a mode of transport, they were survival tools. Imagine a place where your cycle becomes your comrade, your punishment, your gym, and occasionally, your stretcher.

My cycle at NDA was possibly the most abused member of the batch. It climbed hills, upto Mahabaleshwar n Panchgani, carried kitbags heavier than a guilt-ridden politician, and withstood weather conditions that made Doomsday look like a picnic.

So, what's the takeaway: “When the going gets tough, the tough ride uphill without gears n brakes".

Chapter 3: Service with Spokes

In uniform, Ashutosh found the real battlefield wasn’t just out there — it was in the war against belly fat. Enter the cycle once again, the unsung hero of PT, the silent shrink for stress, and the loyal ride for morning rounds, my BSA SLR did it all. 

While my peers invested in SUVs and joint pain, I chose spoke therapy over smoke therapy. The rumble of tanks was majestic, sure, but the rhythm of pedals on a morning trail? Pure poetry.

Civilians would ask, “Sir, don’t you have a car?”

I'd reply, “Yes, I also have legs.”

Lesson: “True power is not in horsepower, but in willpower.”

Chapter 4: Retirement and the Renaissance of Riding

Today, I am retired. Well, technically. In reality, just re-tired — as in, got new tires for my cycle. The bicycle now accompanies me not to war zones, but to tea stalls, sunrise points, and the occasional philosophical detour.

The helmet may be newer, but the soul underneath is the same: curious, calm, and cardio-efficient. Now, I cycle with the Bhagavad Gita in his ear, photography camera in bag, and the wind in my face.

Youngsters on electric scooters whiz by, confused. “Uncle still rides a cycle?”

I smile n wave back...Little do they know - Uncle is timeless. And so is his cycle.

The Lessons from the Life Cycle (of Ashutosh, not your insurance plan):

1. Balance is everything. You learned it at 6, forgot it at 26, and now rediscover it at 60 — on two wheels, not four.

2. Gears are optional; grit is not.

3. Cycling is meditation in motion. A moving ashram. A revolving yoga mat. The faster you go, the stiller you feel.

4. The destination is often overrated. The journey is where the breath syncs with the breeze.

5. Pain is temporary. Saddle sores are eternal. But so is joy. Many a times I have been put off road by injuries. But, do they worry me? Well, definitely not. They say sleep for 6-7 hrs. I reach 6 hrs mostly. After that outdoors. 

In Conclusion:

I may have cycled through decades, postings, and philosophies — but the cycle remains unchanged: two wheels, one soul, zero emissions.

So the next time you see a man on a cycle, looking like he’s headed nowhere but smiling like he’s reached everywhere — salute him. For he knows the true secret of life:

     “Keep pedaling. Don’t look back. The chain of karma works best when oiled regularly.”

Today, ie 29 May 25, I went cycling after over 2 months. A serious injury had anchored me to my bed. It was a bad phase, a period in which I not only suffered severe pain but complete helplessness. How a stroke of fate can derail one's life suddenly no one knows. 

However,  as I lay flat on the floor through these days, I would tell myself get up and fight. Don't give up. The hope of being back on road pedaling was my fuel. It steered the course of my recovery and pain management. As Buddha would way, Sansaar Is Dukkham,  Suffering. But, the alchemy takes place inside the furnace of Dukkham. 

The pics below are from today's ride. 

And that, dear reader, is the Life Cycle — Ashutosh-style. 🚴‍♂️✨