Saturday, September 04, 2010

Flying lessons in the morning

It is 8 in the morning and often my day starts much beyond this. But at the present moment, I am well awake, bubbling with thoughts, and feel excited (in its classical literal meaning). Hot water from a soaked towel runs over my left buttock, losing its intensity, yet fulfilling its purpose by the time it breaks into tiny streams that would cascade down the thighs and onto another towel underneath me. I am filled with a relief.

Imagine me a sybarite; but the deviants would probably guess better - I am recovering shortly after having an accident.

Friend: Aur weekend me kya plan hai
me: my wkend started with flying lessons in the morning
*not of the kind you'd expect
Friend: ok
me: ahem, hey, wht'd you infer, btw?
Friend: Inference, I don't know
I would like you to explain
But I have seen you online the whole night
so was a little worried
pyaar to nahi ho gaya na tujhe
me: pyaar ka koi vichaar nahin
Friend: just joking
what are those flying lessons
me: so it happens that my proactive day - another weekend where I woke up to ensure my eternity - started with a 9km walk from my cousin's place to back home, and I got hurled in the air by a bajaj avenger midway
Friend: you mean and accident
* an accident
me: yep, tales of the common man
Friend: kaisa hai be?
what about injuries
I hope it's not serious
me: no, nothing broken. nothing bleeding.
Friend: nice way you put things up
me: my rear took much of the damage
Friend: That's great
me: jeans and shirt torn
Friend: vo sab to thik hai
galti kiski thi
me: both of a swerving autowallah and a speeding biker

But I, like every man, am a being of pure survival. It did not take much time for me to come to senses. Survey of my limbs, survey of the bystanders' reactions to ensure I wasn't bleeding, gathering my sensory impulses to analyse the extent of my injuries, then taking a few deep breaths before breaking into my first words to communicate my disappointment at both the involved parties, then recollecting the spills from my pocket scattered on the road.

Shaqeel, a cab driver that represented the best of humanity at that moment helped to wash my bruised palms, and volunteered to drive me some distance ahead. To his surprise, instead of hinting at an anxiety to get home in haste, I got down by the shores of Powai Lake. "Sit by Powai Lake to catch the sunrise" was on my itinerary, you see.
Alas, the sky was/is too cloudy today. I did enjoy the serenity, nevertheless, my eyes wandering off to the far ends of this lake to imagine a bask of crocodiles somewhere. Then some more listlessly staring-into-the-horizon, I started feeling the boredom and the pain and headed for home. Pain makes for a bad awareness - it sucks you inward, to your core Darwinian impulses, you cannot come up with a metaphysical theory or chart your future.

Now it seems difficult getting back on track with my superhuman fitness routine that would've been starting this evening.
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