It was in the dusty fields of Bhujra village that the first Common Line cycle arrived.
It wasn't pretty.
No paint. Basic frame. Wooden pedals. But it worked.
The villagers danced. Children took turns pushing each other down the wheat paths. One old farmer, leg once injured by a falling mule cart, cried as he mounted it and finally reached the river alone after years of dependence.
Sharath had insisted: each Common Line unit would be priced at the value of a single goat—or offered free to village leaders who agreed to adopt road improvement plans.
Within months, village-to-village trade exploded.
Weddings happened across provinces. Midwives traveled at dusk. Grain prices stabilized because delivery bottlenecks ended. Sharath didn't just invent transport—he invented freedom.
Bards composed songs. "Wheels of the People" echoed in street festivals.
In these villages, no one knew the negotiations behind it.
But they all knew the symbol on the handlebar: a crescent gear with a rising flam