Friday, July 08, 2011


These streetlights pass over me one by one, the light of one illuminating me for a second before shoving me into the arms of the next one while the darkness caresses me in between. The ride’s a lot like life, darkness with its ecstasies of utopia, followed by the blinding lights of reality. You pass through these intermittent phases as the wheels keep rolling and you look at your watch for the one thing that never stops, even if you do, time. It’s your will to trudge on or swiftly glide, the watch won’t stop or even if it does, you’ll just replace the batteries and twist the arms back to calibrate it with the seconds, minutes, hours or days that passed while it wasn’t ticking but that didn’t cease your locomotion towards the end, the ultimate end, from where everyone wishes to have a new beginning in the form of eternal life or rebirth, hoping they’d get to see some more of what they experience now and the way they experience it now. But now that they have it, they spend it complaining about what they don’t have while they still have the biggest thing they can have, life.
You can always turn and ride back to where you came from, you’ll find that place wasn’t the way you left it, you’ll search for the ones you left behind but you’ll find out that they turned some direction and rode-on their way and while you hang your head for a while, you slowly realize that the clock is still ticking and you need to make your journey, find your reasons and paint your rainbow in the black of the night while there’s still some rubber left on the wheels and roll back on your own road. The wind dries your eyes but the tears bring relief, sometime you take-off the helmet to feel wind on your face, to feel that speed of life but at other times the drag on your chest threatens to squeeze your breath-out so you slow down and gaze at that confounded time-machine that only tell about the present and is mute about the past or future. Then you wonder if that’s what it’s all about. You also wonder what you can do with the contraption on your wrist, maybe you can set goals by it. You never know when it’ll be buried with you, it could be in 30 years, it could be in 30 seconds but you can live by it. So while today you ride on this ground, one day you’ll be six feet under. Who'll remember? maybe it’s about the miles you traverse, the landmarks you cross and most importantly the landmarks that you create.

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