An Autobiography of a Broken Bicycle

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                I am a broken bicycle. I cannot remember the date of birth. I was born in a reputed cycle manufacturing company. My name is ‘Hero’. My owner is a widow. She bought it and took me home. I carried her child to school every day. I had no freedom. I was obedient to my master. One day the child forced me to race with a car. I could not keep pace with the car. I fell down with my little friend. I was terribly injured. But my little friend was safe. My limbs were broken. My master did not take me to a repair-shop to get my normal life back. I was hopeless. Since then I was hopelessly alone in one corner of a room. None thinks of the remedy for curing me. My owner and her son hardly remember me.