Once upon a time, in this part of town, there lived a small group of young riders fondly (or secretly) known to the locals as ‘the urban fixies’.
As said, they were riders, free-spirited and young ( late teens to early twenties)with their DIY fixies spray-painted to perfection. They did not ride but rather flew through town, with their dreadlocks,afro cuts, loose shirts and bowler hats. Their tanned faces sometimes glistening with sweat under the warm sun and their calves rippled to every crank. They came from nowhere or anywhere. You'll see them when you see them. But when you do see them, either riding in the sun or gliding through the night, you will be awed.
Awed by their simplicity. Awed by the way they carry themselves. Calm. Collected. Focused. Too cool to care. You seldom see them talk. They say , the urban fixies communicate by gestures, by grunts, by eye twitches. They will stop long enough, not to hang around, but to regroup. Once they are one, they will flock elsewhere.
You could tell, sometimes from afar, that they were happy. And they were peace-loving beings. Non- believers of nuisance and nonsense. They were law abiding citizens, only an eyesore to old folks who fail to understand their self expression.
But one day, like black clouds creeping in on a beautiful sky, a small new group of riders infiltrated the town. First in small groups of 5s, then 10s, then 20s until it seemed that they were everywhere. It was understood that they were initially imitators. As mimics of the urban fixies. They came into town from miles away, riding their neon coloured generic fixies readily available from Kedai Basikal Ah Ba. These bikes were pitifully tasteless but deemed awesome by the new riders now known to the townspeople as 'kampung fixies'; no disrespect to the kampung people.
But as uber cooless could not be replicated or imitated, the kampug fixies failed to carry themselves wisely. They were simply wannabes. Not trend setters. Everything was overdone.
They spun into town making a racket. Flocking the streets as nuisance.They were ruthless, rowdy at times. Loitering and tastelessly hogging parking lots and conquering the roads. An eyesore, an ear sore and a stick in the behind.
What happened to the urban fixies in the mean time? They stood watching as their town was taken over. But as peace-loving beings, they did not reciprocated. Instead, to avoid territorial conflict,they dispersed. They disappeared, one by one into the masses.
Until one day, they were gone. All of them, dreadlocks and all.( **cue dust and debris scattering and rolling bushes for dramatic effect)
And to this day the kampung fixies still roamed the town. Terrorizing people with their hazardous wheelies and lameness. Most are only young ‘uns, not even through middle high,clueless ,trying so hard but alas, are greatly annoying.
God help us.
I believe one day, when the craze has ended and the madness has ceased, the urban fixies will be back. Emerging one by one from the crowd. Slightly older, slightly worn, but they will come back. With their dreadlocks, afro cuts, loose shirts and bowler hats. With their beautiful DIY-fixies, spray-painted to perfection.
They will be back, flying into town, coolness oozing from their ears.
Sekian sessi bercerita saya pada hari ini untuk melepaskan geram kepada kampung fixies yang sangat menyakitkan hati di pekan saya yang terchenta
Newton Challenge 2017 30KM
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