The ride back to life


Tttttrrrrrrrnnnnnnggggggg.

He wakes up grudgingly, reaches out for the alarm clock & presses the OFF button on the top all the while cursing its preciseness. He didn’t need to look at the time because he clearly remembered setting it last night to 3.00 AM. Normally he would have snoozed it & pulled over his blanket back over his head, but not today. Today he had to be punctual, he had to prove to himself that he was worthy of doing something. After a brief period of silent contemplation he turns over to the right side and gets down from the bed. He meticulously folds his blanket, smoothens the creases on the bed sheet & pulls over the bed-wrap over the bed sheet. He moves a step back, has a look at his neat bed & feels a bit sad at not having done this more often, or to be more precise for the entire last year.

On his way to the bathroom he trips over a half-filled bottle of vodka in the hall (it was not huge enough to live so he didn’t prefer calling it a living room) spilling it over the pack of cigarettes beside it. He bends over quickly & picks up the bottle, has one look at it and says “Vodka for life”. He raises the bottle to his nose & the pleasantly pungent smell makes him feel more alive than ever. He then picks up the wet pack of cigarettes & wipes them over his shirt. He carefully opens the pack ensuring that the cigarettes inside don’t get wet & takes out one. He walks over to the cramped up balcony & looks around for a matchbox, he finds one beneath last month’s newspaper. He opens it and to his utter dismay finds no matchstick. He just grins and then looks up “You always want to play games with me, don’t You?” He walks back to the hall & finds a lone matchstick on the keyboard holder of his computer table. He lights his cigarette & walks back to the balcony, picks up the bottle of vodka & leaning on the railings he finishes both, alternating between taking a sip & taking a drag, all the while trying not to think but in the process thinking all the same.

He takes a look at the hall from the balcony & decides that it needed a lot of tidying up. He then realizes that the balcony was in an even messier state. He pulls out the huge plastic handbags & starts dumping anything & everything he could lay hands on inside it, after all he wouldn’t need anything anymore. In less than 15 minutes he was done with his self-imposed assignment & arches his back backwards to ease the pain on his spine. He has a look at his handiwork and says “I know, you are a nice guy”. He then makes his way to the bathroom & takes his own sweet time to first brush then shave & finally under the shower, after all time & money are there only to be spent. When he had completely groomed himself, he looks at his watch for the time – 4.10 AM, exactly as he had planned. He picks up his bike keys, his helmet & opens the cupboard to take out his jacket, but he stops midway & tells himself “You have to feel the wind today” so he leaves the jacket alone. He then locks the house, takes out his bike & rides onto the huge wide roads leading to his most favorite place – Idnan Hills.

It takes him about an hour & a half to reach the top of the hills, almost half an hour more than his usual time, because today wasn’t about winning the race, today wasn’t about reaching the destination, today was just about the journey. Even though he had been on these roads many times before he felt that he had never seen all the scenery that he was seeing today. The rows of shops, the vast empty fields, a huge rock with a small temple at the top, the series of trees lining both sides of the roads just before the hills. He had never taken his eyes beyond the road before this, but today he could hardly keep his eyes on it. He parks his bike at his usual place, places his helmet over the mirror & starts walking to the gate from where he would have to trek on the steps for about half an hour to reach the summit.

He reaches the top, takes in a deep breath & blows out strongly. He then makes his way to that part of the hill which was the most secluded & the most dilapidated and which obviously he loved the most. He walks along the small track right beside the tall brick walls, so tall that he couldn’t see anything beyond it. He couldn’t even reach the top of the wall to pull himself up & climb on it. But he knew where he was going, probably for the first time. He reaches the spot where the wall had broken at the top, closes his eyes stretches out his hands & takes a leap & pulls himself up. The last time he had done this was to win a bet on a can of beer. He didn’t remember seeing anything that day, now he stands up & slowly opens his eyes. The view takes his breath away, if anything held him still that moment it was his senses which had been numbed. He looks down below his feet & it was just a never ending cliff. He then looks up and says “I don’t lose, I will let You win”. He closes his eyes again wondering what would be his last thoughts, but to his utter amazement there were no thoughts coming to his mind at all. This was the most liberated feeling he had ever had. He just continues to revere in that feeling when a drop of water falls on his cheek, each drop from then on increases his bliss manifold times & he just stands there with his eyes shut getting completely drenched in the rain. He slowly opens his eyes & something bright hits his eyes, he blinks & looks at it again, it was the Sun. It then flashes to him that it had been a very long time since he had seen the Sun, leave alone the rising sun. This shining star had a magical effect on him & he felt goose pumps running over his whole body. It was as if nature was conspiring against his plans. He stands there for some more time gazing at the sunrise & looks up and says “I knew You wouldn’t let me lose”. He climbs down from the wall & makes his way back to his bike.

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