Friday, June 5

... year that is gone.

The rainmakers of Malabar have to wait. Monsoon doesn’t come so soon. 

I took out myself for a short spin. Meteorological department of the government has it wrong. Today was the day the rains were to arrive. Sky looked blue and placid… and the traditional anglers were busy with their nets and boats. 
Thank God, another year is through. The period from one monsoon to the adjacent summer makes one year of my life. People count it differently: some go with Malayalam Calendar and others with Georgian calendar… some with religious almanacs and other with seasons of the earth. I belong to the last group: seasons make up my life on earth. I love seasons. Manmade calendars are no good but for counting my age and knowing when to pay tax! 

This year was terrific : I was really on the road spinning ultra-long distances. That was great and I found lots of courage to do it. People may ask why I have to push myself for Randonneuring (brevetting, as some calls it). As Divya Tate puts it: I want to be my own hero. There is a little hero hidden in each of us… I just wanted to discover where it was at this period in my life. I am a little hero in a nation of hero worshippers. Ya… me have never had a hero in my life and will never have one, but me and only me is the hero in me! This year offered some of the best personal results in brevetting…. And that was the discovery I call “terrific”. And there is no going back on it! 




If the rainmakers of Malabar have to wait, then some of the children of the sunshine can walk, jog and stretch a bit more into the season reserved for the rain, dark clouds and monsoon. I have found the beaches of Malabar astonishingly polluted with solid waste: everything from plastic water bottles to rotting vegetable filth. Why is it that society which so much harp on about cleanliness fails on the roads and beaches? As I spin slowly across the once clean beach-roads, my heart  aches seeing the filth littered around pedestrian walkways. I am silent about it. I wasn’t born at that time… still, fifty years ago, life must have been simple off plastic and the multitude of advertisements spoiling the calm beachfront sky. All that is gone: Too many sounds steal away my silence. Nevertheless, can anyone disturb my darkness? 




Goodbye summer … the heat and sulking humidity is giving way to the cooler air and the rains. 

I have a long way to go … and “Lord, just give me that courage to take one day at a time and spin my way to that eternal destiny You have in me”  

Followers