THE WALK....

I was sitting ideally on my computer one evening trying to think of something, something to fill in my deserted blog. finally I gave up and started an old Woody Alan movie, a dull ending to an unusually beautiful and cloudy day. It had rained after a long dry spell. The air was filled with all those earthly smells you get when it rains for the first time. It was like one of those nice lazy days when taking a piss is the only manual labor you do. Everything seemed perfectly calm and relaxed.
then suddenly the lights went out.

If someone ever made a list of the most disgusting things that can happen on a beautiful Friday evening, power cut would have to be on the top. Not withstanding the tyranny and cruelty of the power dep’t, I decided to keep myself entertained. Determined, I grabbed my ipod and marched out of the hostel. It was pitch dark. I started walking and didn’t pay much attention to anything going around. sweet pink floyd played in my ears. everything was washed clean by the afternoon rains. Blurry shadows formed by a mild moon made patterns on the road. a cool wind rushed past and sprinkled water from the trees above. Leaves swayed in the breeze like there was no tomorrow. Felt like everything was flowing in a rhythm, everything was dancing to the tunes in my ears. Felt like I had the control to everything. I matched my footsteps to the tune and kept on walking. closed my eyes to enhance the effect. my feet grew numb, they had a mind of their own now. Mine was wandering, where, I didn’t know, didn’t care. I was almost getting high. Then it started to drizzle, tiny droplets covered my face. If I would have been a hopeless romantic I would have written some poems right there, “for the love of my life”.

I started imagining things, Imagined that I was actually walking through a thick jungle, with snakes all around. It was dark and I couldn’t see the people who walked passed. So I imagined them to be pretty girls in sexy outfits. Smiling at this thought I kept gliding down the road, respecting the rhythm as I walked. Then as cruelly as it had gone, it came back. These things called street lights arrogantly smiled from above as my eyes struggled to get used to the light. The trance was broken, nothing rhymed anymore. The shadows were sharp and left little to imagination. The people who walked past were not pretty girls, and the thick jungle was just a few lonely trees standing besides cold structures. I completed my journey back with a hope that it will all come back, again. I tried desperately to find it, but no use. It had passed away, literally

Then I started making comparisons, something I do after every stupid experience. This time my victim was time itself. So I wondered how sometimes in life, time catches up to our rhythm, follows our every move, how everything falls into place and feels like it was supposed to be that way. Or how some other times when we are the ones running to catch the rhythm, the rhythm of everything, the control of everything.