# The Song Of The Bike

As I cycle along
In the dazzling gruelling heat of noon,
Braving the harsh opposite wind,
I feel that the road has suddenly become black mire
Steadily sucking in the bike Bought on instalments

As I cycle along
I thank God a thousand times
That I could not be bought off for a scooter
Plus petrol allowance Nor sold off for stacks of newspaper waste.

While cycling I am reminded of
Comrade Vidya Ratan Who for the communist party stage
Would celebrate his bike, in a long poem
He had no arms –

I’ve not heard of him for ages
And when out of nowhere
A car overtakes me
I swear and curse in a fit of class hatred

While cycling
I feel that
I am not alone
Twenty million cyclists of this great motherland are with me
The factory workers
The high and mighty clerks
The pedlars The students And even the bicycle thieves

While cycling I take my country forward
While cycling I sharpen my class consciousness.
While cycling I push on still further and further in this last phase of world capitalism.
While cycling I wonder what the pedestrians think of me.