Courtesy: Riyaz Tayyibji By December 2015, the bicycle had been lying in our spare bedroom for over six months. Its tyres were flat, the chain stiffened with gunk and the seat missing the padding. Its mudguards were warped out of shape, as was the chain guard. It was, all in all, a rust bucket. A close Dutch friend who was staying with us, being from a country obsessed with this form of transport, could not fathom what this derelict piece was doing in the house. On closer inspection, one could gather that the bike was in frequent use before it had been stored. A piece of card paper had be...