How A Fledgling Bird Learnt To Fly

Learning to ride a bicycle is a basic life skill that everyone must know. Much like swimming. And once you learn it, you cannot forget it. I know of a distant cousin, who cannot stand erect from his waist up due to an accident. He walks with the torso of his body parallel to the ground. But he rides a bicycle every morning. It is an unbelievable sight. He is 70 years old.
I have willy nilly given up on trying to teach my daughter how to ride a bicycle. She is 14 years old now and has owned various cycles from even before she could walk (starting with tricycles of course). She just doesn't have it in her to learn how to balance herself. She needs prodding and at this stage I cannot run with her holding her under the saddle from behind (that I believe is the second best way to teach cycling, first being learning on your own through trial and error). Also I think anyone who needs prodding to take a bicycle out does not want to learn really and it is best not to push.
I will explain how I learnt and I think that's the way most of us in our generation learnt. May be not at that early an age and perhaps not all completely on their own. But generally speaking it's more or less the same story.
I was eight years old and probably three feet and a few inches tall when we went on a family trip to Shantiniketan where an uncle lived. I remember nothing of that trip except that my parents were sitting on the large balcony of my uncle's house and there was a bicycle in the house. A really tall one that I still find difficult to ride on (the cycle is still there even after a good 45 years of my learning on it when it was already an old cycle). I cannot remember if my father encouraged it or I pulled it out, but I was simply ecstatic when I was allowed to take it out to the field outside my uncle's house. They probably thought I could not have done anything with such a huge cycle. Indeed my chance was very slim.
I was so small that I could not hold the two ends of the handle bar together – an old-fashioned handlebar that I don't see anywhere except in India and also lots in Amsterdam. So, I held the left end of the bar with my left hand and with the right hand I grabbed the saddle. I was finding it difficult to keep the cycle standing erect, let alone take it anywhere. But that itself was a challenge. I kept it straight with all my little strength and then started walking with it, holding it as straight as possible. It was reclining towards me all the time and it was quite a struggle to keep it vertical. Soon enough it became easy and I was walking with the cycle quite comfortably.
The field in front had a gentle slope. I was going up pushing it and then coming down comfortably. On the return journey while coming down, the cycle was rolling much faster. This I kept on doing for an hour or two. Soon enough, while rolling down I started standing with my right foot on the left pedal and roll down a bit with the flow. After this I remember pushing myself intermittently with the left foot on the ground as the cycle was coming to a halt and trying to get some movement. Then at some point of time I started keeping both the feet on the pedal. My feet were so small I could quite comfortably stand with both of them on the pedal. I was basically hopping but with the wrong foot on the wrong pedal. In fact today if I try to do that I might find it difficult - hopping with the right foot on the left pedal.
My parents were busy chatting on the balcony with their friends and relatives. Perhaps they kept an eye on me. Perhaps not. But I was glad to be alone yet within their view of a few hundred meters. I soon started rolling down the slope, standing with both the feet on the pedal. I cannot remember clearly but once I got on the pedal I think I could reach with both the hands to hold the two ends of the bar.
What I do remember is my beaming father telling me, "I guess now you have the balance to ride a bicycle. You don't need anything else."
He then encouraged me to put the right foot on the right pedal while in motion and push/ride the pedals. We call it "half pedaling". Many children, trying to ride a bicycle too high for them, do this. Rather, used to do this. These days one does not see this sight on the streets of large cities anymore because youngsters get cycles suitable for their size.
After some time my father bought a used bicycle. It was a very good cycle but meant for adults. I was allowed to use it but I could manage to ride only half pedal. I was still too small for an adult bike. Then one fine Sunday afternoon my father told my cousin Mezda, who at that time used to live with us, to take me to the lake and help me learn how to ride sitting atop the saddle.
Mezda made me sit on on the saddle and ran for a few meters holding the bike under the saddle. I did not realise when he had stopped running. I could not do a full circle with the pedals. I was still a little short. Perhaps by an inch. So I would push the pedal hard while going down and then let the leg hang and then push down again when the pedal came up. Those who have done it will know what I am talking about.
This in long (as opposed to "short") is how I learnt to pedal a bicycle. As I look back with a matured brain I am trying to analyse what went right with me and wrong with my daughter?
Let me write them down.
1. I grew up with my father's adventure story of how he cycled from Hazaribagh to Ranchi crossing the massive Chutu Palu ghaat at the tender age of 14, even at the risk of being devoured by tigers. These stories probably sowed the seeds of adventure in me. So when I got a chance I pounced upon the cycle.
2. I never had any fancy cycle. There was a tricycle at home that I used to ride on our rooftop. I had no other toy, so to speak. I thoroughly enjoyed it. In our childhood one never got anything without asking for it for months. Children these days get things even before they ask for it. We parents are to be blamed for it. Probably we remember our childhood and try to ensure happier childhood for our children but we are probably destroying a lot of potential in them that a desperate want would have ignited.
3. I was exposed to the right environment for learning to ride. My daughter has never been to a field with a cycle. She has always been exposed to either concrete or asphalt roads where the fear of injury from a fall is high. The field I got had a very gentle slope which helped and hastened the process of learning for me. No such luck for my daughter.
4. My bicycle never had any training wheels which my daughter's cycle had. Training wheels are useless and do not teach you anything. You end up learning how to ride a bicycle with training wheels. In fact Mampu used to love riding her cycle with the training wheels. She stopped riding the day I took them off.
5. I was watching a training video from REI where they say a child must learn first to scoot, coast and then pedal. You learn to balance first and then pedal. This is exactly what I happened to do without looking at any website. Of course I first had to learn to hold the cycle upright first. That itself is a major first step. Ask anyone who does not know how to balance, to walk a bike. One cannot. If you can walk comfortably with a bike you are half way there.
6. I was way too young to use my brain and be afraid. Incidentally I never fell a single time trying to learn, despite my first cycle being too large for me even now. 

A Lust for Life

I do not remember when I first heard about Van Gogh. Probably in school and from my brother in law who was an artist himself and idolised him. I also do not remember who told me first about the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. But I remember that ever since I learnt about its existence I wanted to go to that city, even if it was for a day. 

When we learnt that Mampu would be visiting Amsterdam for a day trip from Geltsenkirchen, Germany, my only request to her was to try and get a Van Gogh postcard and post it from Amsterdam. Just like that. As a memento. Mampu unfortunately didn't get a chance to even see the museum building. I think they just went to the Museum Square Area and were shown the Van Gogh Museum from a distance. Sad for her. 

But soon enough I learnt that I myself would be going to Amsterdam for slightly more than a day. I would be in the city, with 200 office colleagues and some 1500 dealers, for two full days (the entire trip would be for three days with one day reserved for Den Haag - The Hague). 

My first reaction to office colleagues was: "my long cherished dream of seeing Van Gogh Museum would come true at last". To this a particular colleague said, "Who is that? The Monalisa fellow?"  I realised not only does he not know who Van Gogh is, he has no clue who the Monalisa fellow is either. But that's a different story. 

As the time for the trip drew nearer I realised that probably we would have to give the visit to Van Gogh Museum a miss. Because the two days in Amsterdam were planned in such a way that you had to go out on group tours of the city and its surrounding areas throughout the day. I wasn't too sure if I would be able to opt out of these trips. So I didn't book any museum trip in advance. I told myself that we will go to Europe on a family tour later and that is when we shall see the museum. 

Our plan in the Netherlands was like this. Day one is in Amsterdam. Day two in The Hague (Den Haag) and day three again in Amsterdam. By day one afternoon we realised that a. going out on these group tours is a torture b. we could easily opt out of them. The only cost was we would need to organise lunch or dinner on our own. By 'we' I mean Surajit Majumdar and me. 

Surajit suggested that we book the ticket for the Van Gogh Museum for 9th August, the second day of our stay in the city. After some initial hesitation I agreed. It was to cost us € 16 each. The hesitation wasn't about the money but just like once I make up my mind to do something I do it regardless of the obstacles, once I make up my mind not to do something I find it difficult to do it. But for Van Gogh Museum, I chose to be a little more flexible. 

Surajit booked the ticket online and we got a 4 pm to 7 pm slot. So we were all set to go. On that day we chose to opt out right from the morning. After a particularly heavy buffet breakfast at the hotel (which came gratis), I went out on my own to explore the city. Surajit and I decided to meet in front of the shop Hema in Central Station, where we went on day one to buy breads and butter etc for the dinner. We decided that we would meet at around 3 pm and from there go to the museum. 

The park behind the museum. We spent a pleasant time here

I came to the rendezvous point a little ahead of Surajit because I was close by at Haarlemarstrat buying my hiking boots from Kathmandu. The boot was a little too large for my 26 lit Deuter which I was using. Inside I had a warm woolen and my Precip rainwear. I think I kept the Precip on top of the shoe box, under the top flap of the sack. It was hitting me on my neck from behind. The sack just did not have any more space even for a fly. 

Anyway, after meeting up at the Central Station, Surajit and I took a tram and went to the Museum. We took tram number 2. I think 5 would also have gone. Earlier in the morning I had taken the same tram to go to Lightsupply (Leidseplein in Dutch) stop for a visit to the Bever store and Van Gogh Museum was a couple of stops after this. So going back the same route was not a problem at all, except that we had to spend €3 more on tram ticket. We could have easily walked this distance but Surajit didn't want to take a chance with the time and our arrival etc. 

We reached a little ahead of time. First I checked out the little shop outside the museum which was selling Van Gogh themed post cards and posters. I looked for a self portrait fridge magnet which they did not have. I decided not to buy anything from this shop before checking out the official museum store. 

There was quite a large crowd that had gathered outside to get the entry ticket. I felt great that we had already booked the ticket. We asked an official kind of lady about how to get in using our e-ticket and whether we needed to do anything else. Like in India if you book an e-ticket for a cinema you still have to collect the physical ticket from the counter. She said you need not do anything. Just show them the ticket at the gate from your mobile after 4 and enter. No line or anything. 

We spent the time taking some photographs of the building. In case you do not know, the Van Gogh Museum is housed in a rather modern building. Because this is not one of those old traditional museums, which the Rijksmuseum, for example, is. I think it was built in the 60s (google says it was built in 1973). There are two buildings. One houses the main collection. The other was running an exhibition of sorts for some Van Gogh paintings, putting him in the context of other contemporary European artists. 

The museum from behind

We spent some time sitting on the large lawn behind the museum. At the other end of the lawn one could see the imposing Rijksmuseum. But that's quite a distance. 

At around 4 pm we took our chance to enter the museum. It was the moment for me. I had seen a few Van Goghs in New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art on an extremely crowded Sunday afternoon in December 2002. But entering the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam for the first time is a special moment in one's life.  

The Rjiksmuseum from the lawns behind VGM

From the entry gate one has to go downstairs that houses the official museum store. Here we left our backpacks for safe keeping and then decided to explore the shops. They have everything. The post cards, posters, replica paintings, T-shirts, bags, fridge magnets, pencils, pens, paints, key rings, pads, even Van Gogh branded hair oil and moisturisers. The way they have merchandised the artist is really remarkable. I didn't know whether to like it or hate it. I think I had a mixed feeling. I made a mental note of what to buy on our way out and went for the museum tour. 

We did not buy any audio guide but decided to explore it on our own. To be honest, the main paintings are so well explained through written notes next to them that one perhaps does not need an audio guide, which I thought might be a distraction rather than help. 

The first thing you notice in the museum is the tremendously low light. The halls are almost dark you could say. I have been to only the Metropolitan Museum in New York, among the globally famous ones. There the light was normal. Here things are different. It's an extremely subdued light that they have. 

Later I learnt that the real reason for the low light is a recent discovery that some of the pigments in Van Gogh's paintings are changing colour due to the effect of light. In fact his Irises, which are blue and the world has always known them to be blue, were originally purple! This is a recent discovery. Apparently the floor in the painting Bedroom, which is also housed in this museum, had a lot of purple in it as well. The museum authorities have thus decided to reduce light. 

I remember Aisling once telling me about an English painter who donated his life's work to the Irish National Museum with an order for them to display the paintings only in winter months when natural light in Ireland is proverbially low. Otherwise they were to be kept in vaults throughout the year. He was in mortal fear of his paintings losing their original colours. He was apparently a water colour painter and used extremely subtle and faint colours. 

It is sad to think that a day will come when Van Gogh's paintings will not look like the way they do now. We have no idea how the original Irises looked in purple. 

In the first hall we saw all the self portrait in the museum's collection. It's a massive collection. We did not count but thought there must be some 20 of them there. I just checked the most elaborate website on Van Gogh . According to their list the museum has 17 of them. I am proud that I saw them all. 

In this hall we also saw a sculpture by Rodin. In fact although called the Van Gogh Museum, there are several other paintings in their collection which are displayed side by side with the Van Goghs. These are mostly his contemporaries or artists who had an impact on him. There are some paintings by other artists which are in the nature of their tribute to him. I saw Monet, Rembrandt, Gaugin and various other artists whose names I do not know.

There were two more floors of Van Gogh paintings. We saw them all. It is impossible to recount all that we saw. But obviously this museum houses paintings from all the important phases of his life. Among the notable paintings that I will always remember are the Sunflowers (there is just one them here), the Potato Eaters, the Irises, the Wheat Field with Crows the Almond Tree in Blossom, Seascape near Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer. In fact, we had missed the Potato Eaters initially. We asked the guards and went back again to see it. You have to stand mesmerised before the actual painting when you see it. 

We saw a few remarkable paintings that we had no clue were done by Van Gogh. The most remarkable of these was the Japanese style painting of  Courtesan after Eisen and the skull with a burning cigarette. I had no clue about these.

And of course we saw a lot of his drawings with charcoal and other media. I have always loved bold drawings with charcoal. The study of Old Man in Grief has fascinated me for a long time now. I saw it as well. 

The two most notable paintings of his life that are NOT here in this museum are the Starry Night and the Street Side Cafe in Arles at Night. That painting is officially called Cafe Terrace and I believe it is now in the Otterlo's Kröller-Müller Museum (incidentally a new dream is beginning to take shape - can I ever visit this museum? It has the world's second largest Van Gogh collection. Otterlo is a small village in The Netherlands whose only claim to fame is this fantastic museum. Presumably this museum does not stay as crowded as the VGM.

Apart from the low light in the museum, the other problem there is the continuous flow of visitors. Well, we were also part of the same crowd so I cannot complain about that. But it does make seeing the paintings in detail a tough task. You are always blocking or disturbing someone else. It is not possible to block someone else for a long time. But I must say, the crowd here is not nearly one tenth of what I had to endure in New York. Of course, that was a bad day to go, being the last Sunday of the year. Here, we were visiting in the middle of the week. Still the number of visitors in front of each painting is quite sizeable. They do try to evenly distribute the crowd by giving slots. Even then it is quite large.

It took us about two hours to see the main collection. I think we spent a little more than that, doing a recap of a few paintings once again. After that we went to the other building where we saw a few more, including what was claimed to be "possibly the last painting of Van Gogh, painted a few days before his death".

Next we went to the official Museum shop. Oh my God. One should come here to see what merchandising is all about. They even have moisturisers and hair oil in Van Gogh's name, not to speak of post cards, posters, reproductions, life size prints, bags, wallets, T-shirts - in short everything. There were some paint tubes also. I knew what I wanted in my limited budget. I picked up a self portrait fridge magnet for the living room and a diary with the Seascape painting on the cover for Mampu. She loved it, incidentally. If I ever go again I will possibly pick up a Potato Eater poster. It is a bit of a gloomy painting. So I might just get the Almond in Bloom poster as well. (Apart from these mementos, from the Netherlands I bought a small blue and white porcelain windmill, a  tiny silver windmill pendant for Monisha and a blue and white small biscuit tin with some cookies in it.)

Van Gogh shower gel anyone ? Body lotion ?

I also picked up a small memento for free from one of the halls. It was a real ticket left on a table. I asked the guard if I could take it and he said it was fine.

When we came out at around 7.30 we realised we were a little hungry. I had with me three cookies bought by Surajit on day 1. The three of us (Mr Ganguly had joined us during the visit) shared the three large cookies. They were very filling. After raising my sack back on my back I realised the Precip was not hitting me against the back of my neck. I quickly took the sack down and realised the Precip wasn't where I thought I had left it - on top of the sack.

I was in panic. I went back to the guards at the gate and told them about my issue. They let me in to talk to the lost and found section. The lady there was extremely helpful and looked around with me through all the shelves where bags are kept. We could not find it. She even showed me a jacket that was lying with them since the previous day. It was obviously not mine. I thought may be it had fallen off even before I had deposited it to their counter and gave up hopes of finding it ever. She noted down my email ID in case they found it.

I came out, feeling very sad. I just wished if it is really lost someone poor should get it. I even went to the part of the lawn where we had sat. The bench. No trace. Finally I thought let me check the inside of the sack. Did I really keep it on top or did I somehow shove it in? And guess what? It was there. I felt so happy and really embarrassed because the lost and found lady asked me several times, "Are you sure it's not in your bag?" I went to the guards and told them the story. They laughed and said they would inform the lady about it.

We came back. Happy to have lived through a big dream.

That's me in front of the museum. A long cherished dream come true.