Uphill

my is heart pumping furiously. i hear the tempo of its beats rise steadily in my ears. like someone is pounding huge drums in my chest.
the asphalt appears to be swaying as it travels backwards, it's dark surface is slick with the light rain and is obscured periodically by my white sneakers. i look up and my eyes blink automatically to avoid the raindrops. i am running away from civilization... lamp posts and city blocks long left behind are replaced by trees and fences. cars glide past slowly, their wiper blades dancing synchronously across the windshield, their red tail lights and orange turn signals glowing brilliantly under the misty gloom. the tires raise even finer mist and leave tire tracks in their wake, which promptly dissolve into the black inkiness as rain water lays its blanket over the tarmac.
the road narrows and winds up through the forest. rain falls steadily over the canopy, generating a constant static - like someone turned on the TV, but there was no broadcast. unlike the electronic version though, this seems pleasant in the otherwise serene surrounding. water trickles down my brows and percolates through my saturated clothes. i look down to see the wet fabric clinging to my body like second skin. if i'm breaking a sweat, it's not discernible. the road is now narrower, deserted. the cars are few and far between, and have to cross over the painted separators to pass me. daylight dwindles. crickets start their incessant chatter - like overhead high-voltage electric wires. acorns fall generously, noisily and scatter off among the dense vegetation.  i get off the road when 2 cars cross nearby, and i feel the malleable mulch and the lush grass crush softly from underneath the thick sneaker soles, as if i were running barefeet. unwillingly, i get back on the tarmac which now feels harder than ever.
my pace is steadier now. every stride jolts my body into awakening... i can feel my calfs, my thighs, the pit of my stomach, like i have never felt before. i feel the crisp, fresh air circulate within my lungs and my heart pumping rich, oxygenated blood through my veins. i feel i was born to run - to gently caress the soft earth beneath my toes and let the cool breeze do the same to my face.  dear mother, forever caring, giving; i can never thank you enough. why? why do you care so much for a spoilt, greedy brat, who will destroy your gifts and then throw tantrums? answers elude me, comprehension fails me, but i keep running.
the incline is steeper now. my pace slows. my steps are less and less further apart. my breathing is heavy, deep. my mouth opens to take in more, but the lungs are filled to capacity. almost on the verge of exploding. my mouth is dry, throat parched. i wipe off water from my face as a dull ache begins to make its presence felt somewhere in my guts. each step is an effort. my feet are lead, and the road is a powerful magnet, resisting any attempt to separate the contact. my insides feel like they're on fire. every nerve and sinew has started screaming for attention. "stop, i can't take it". but i ignore the voices. how can i give up? i haven't reached the top yet.
as if on cue, one of my shoelaces comes undone. is this a test? i keep going. the laces turn into wicks, soaking water from the rivulets and thrashing voilently against my ankles, spraying excess water. i am mildly amused for a brief instant. then a strange thing happens - suddenly, i don't feel exhausted anymore. the pain, if it existed, is gone now. it's a miracle - i feel rejuvenated. it's like i've attained escape velocity - freed from the shackles of my feeble mind. i could go on running for miles. the struggle is over.
i reach the top effortlessly and stop. there is no point in going on. i know i can, if i want to. my insides feel like ember. however, the skin is cold to the touch. i feel like there's steam rising from my arms, like it does for horses that have finished a race. obviously, there is none. i turn and start jogging - i'm a long way from home.
the return journey always seems faster somehow. as i near the base of the hill, i cross another solitary runner who is just starting the climb. i smile and give a thumbs-up for the uphill battle.

Your Attention Please

i used to blog frequently. until twitter came along. now, i micro-blog. it is too easy. and i don’t have to spend time to think.

the world is getting faster and more concise with each passing day, hour and minute. Instant gratification is not merely relished, it’s demanded. Writing this a few years ago would have taken up all my concentration. Today, my mind somersaults through a plethora of activities, a dozen times a minute as i ‘Alt-Tab’ my way through the open windows before i manage to complete one sentence. my attention span has been reduced to that of a gnat. Does all this context switching affect my writing? maybe. for better or worse? can’t say. i know for a fact that my writing is certainly different when i write the old-fashioned way, than when i type.

i feel restless if i don’t click on the ‘You have a new mail’ alert, the moment it pops up. or if the hourglass pointer shows up for more than a few seconds. my irritation is demonstrated as violently shake the mouse as if doing that would somehow cause it to go away. one word: ADD.

the disorder seems contagious. ppl are always on the edge and are loosing it at the drop of a hat. they can’t sit still for more than a few minutes…unless they’re watching TV, in case of which, they can stare at it for hours without moving a muscle (well, except the thumb to switch channels). which brings us to another important observation: ppl (including me) are becoming lazier. most would choose activities like sleeping, watching TV and thinking in decreasing order of priority, given a choice. working out doesn’t even make the list anymore. reading books? forget it… takes too much time and efforts. and who reads books anyways? kindle? sure, just can’t seem to focus on reading one, when the news feeds are updated every other minute. i gotta stay updated on the latest celebrity gossip, you know? it’s pretty popular at the water cooler.

everyone always has had a choice. except, now the choice has gone from choosing between reading one or other to choosing whether to read or zone out. the scary part is, in most of the cases today, it’s the latter that gets chosen.

are we all becoming so poor that we can’t even pay attention?

or is it the other way round? in today’s attention economy, my attention span became one of the most coveted commodity as everyone tried really hard to get my attention. pretty soon, they were all shouting at the top of their lungs clamoring to get my attention. initially, i ignored them. over time, i turned deaf.

next on the list is finding some techniques to combat the impulses my brain so that i can …hey, it’s Friday! wonder what the weather is like over the weekend.

A Life Less Ordinary

It is the middle of Spring and one of the glorious days of abundant Sunlight and intermittent breeze.
i sit outdoors sprawled on a beach chair on our front porch, listening to a multitude of melodious bird calls and watching puffs of clouds sail by, slowly and silently.
The same wind that drives the clouds noiselessly above, softly rustles the new, green leaves, and the branches wave as if they're happy to get some movement in their otherwise staid existence.
Small birds dive through the dense branches most possibly looking for food, while squirrels jump around and scamper up and down tree trunks seemingly implying they don't have time to hang around.
Water seeps through the soil and trickles down from huge boulders, a drop at a time. Every drop hesitating for a fraction of a second before finally taking the plunge from the edge of its diving board to meet Mother Earth below. Light briefly glints off them in that pause, and goes off. Like fireflies glowing on and off at regular intervals.
Creepers hang from the rocks, snaking across the flat surfaces and moss clumps provide colour to the gray and black background. Some small plants find their way through the rocky crevices and protrude out seeking the Sun.
The scent of the forest - grass, trees, an Earth - gently wafts through the surrounding like incense.
The slow drone of an aircraft somewhere above makes me look for it. It is not hard to locate. The vapour trails streaking across the skies effortlessly lead me to it. The trails stretch for some distance like slashes of light cut through the blue expanse; curling and evaporating into nothingness at the tail end as the aircraft blazes across - as if trying to get away from the very sound it is making.

Mind wanders. Thoughts criss-cross; present, past, future, as i lay still in the placid moment. Why is it so hard to let go? don't i want to?
is it this restlessness of the mind that has brought Mankind to this state? always wanting, always yearning for more, overlooking what it has been bestowed. always brooding, always contemplating.
i close my eyes, trying not to think. only trying. songs play in my mind, and i resist my music player.

time passes, as ever. i try and relish the moments. it does not last. (does it ever?)

The wind falls. Overhead, the clouds begin to gather and Sunlight pales, signalling the inevitable.
i wait till the first of the raindrops crash on my skin and shattering into even tinier droplets that latch on to the surface forming fragile miniature domes... only to dissolve into others to form a rivulet and slide off to the side.

like a fool, i get up and head indoors into shelter.