The Ride


Time stops, only space rushes by. A confounding of the dimensions or is it a trick of my senses? Hours pass by in the guise of minutes, or were they minutes that seemed like hours? Perhaps it was the wind, now pushing against me, making me feel it's strength, and now racing alongside me, unfelt, as if hiding before another gentle ambush. Engulfed by it, I slice through, sometimes silently, and sometimes with a roar that drowns out the world. As it passes over me, some seems to pass through. Through my skin, a swirling mass of untamed desire mingles inside me, stirring emotion, mixing with the adrenalin pumping through my veins.

A blur of space rushes past, barely seen, scarcely remembered. The earth itself seems in a rush, spinning and turning, making its way through a celestial expanse. I resist, refuse to be swept along; an impossible task, yet one that must be done. The wheels keep turning. The growl of the engine, guttural and low, ready to spring into a roar and thrust me forward at the twitch of a muscle.

The clouds understand my desire. Shifting shapes, while hurrying along. The crimson sun imbibing them with hues I don’t know the names of. Shapes that bring back a flood of childhood memories. But they bring more than that.

The first drop is surprising, the second, a nuisance, till the clouds surrender and relinquish their contents. It’s pouring now, and I’m soaked to the bone, yet I ride on. Others have paused, hiding under bridges or shop facades, leaving the road empty for me. Where it had been pleasant before, there is now a nip in the air and a lingering chill. I zip up my jacket, and proceed all the same.

The smell of the earth now hangs in the air, rich and fertile. As the rain water seeps through the parched earth, it releases fragrances locked beneath the surface.

I reach my destination, but my journey does not end.

Comments

  1. its poetic, beautiful and thoughtful, what u wrote!


    Probably journeys never end!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Welcome back, sir! Like Vikas said, very poetic. What I don't like, however, is the 3 week lull. Put pen to paper! Write. Not once n 6 months :)

    Nikita

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thanks Nikita. Will try to heed the advice!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Blogging is that the new poetry. I notice it terrific and wonderful in some ways.

    ReplyDelete

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