Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Motorcycle Monologues - V

'Its like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush from me'. <> True. Pain is a huge rush for me. I do admit that I aint one of the sadistic types, who constantly indulge in self flagellation. No sir. But there are times, times of self doubt and intense disillusionment, when pain is not only the intense pacifier, but also the sole meaning of existence, that I do resort to inflicting some pain on myself. Just to feel SOMETHING. Anything. Anything but the numbness.

And that is what I did when I left her house, 15 'numb' mins later. Her mom asked me for some tea, and from times immemorial, it has been tough, to say no to a cup of tea. So, well, as soon as I left her place, I decided that there was no point in staying back in town (that is what I had initially planned for). There was this numbness that was slowly but surely taking over my senses, and the last thing I wanted was to spend the night at an unknown, unfriendly hotel room!

I am not a pro biker, by even a far shot. Nor is my bike, meant for long cruises. So, it was IDEAL. The moment I left the outskirts of the town, I knew I wanted to do this, without a single pit stop. The fatigue would be intense. And so will be the pain. But then again, that was the whole idea.

But before I carry on with this dead, dull narration, I would like to mention, that on my way out, I took a slightly longer, more scenic route out of the city. And boy, was it Beautiful! For a coupla moments, I had comepletely forgotten the void inside. It was lush green fields around me, cloudy grey skies above, and a pleasant breeze with an ever so slight hint of a chill, caressing my body! It was like a drop of rain, in the middle of a desert. Made my ride, worth it.

The journey back, was predictable. I have done this sort of thing before, and I think, this will not be the end of it, either. Instead of raging against an unknown opponent, I personified it, as pain. After a coupla kms, the ride started taking its toll on me. But I carried on, unrelenting. After some time, it became a duel. Me, against the Pain. The entire focus of my being, of my existence at that moment, shifted to overcoming that intense pain. Eyes steady on the road, ears alert to honking in the rear, and the breathing regular. All senses, working at their optimum, to overcome the common enemy.

I can't articulate the feeling, but when I reached home, I knew that I could make it back, only because of the intense concentration that one derives, when focussed on overcoming an opponent. It wouldn't have been possible otherwise. But the problems, never cease to enter bang in, into RD's life. As soon as the physical stress of it all began to wear off, the pain inside, which I was originally running away from, began to surface. And the worst part of it all was, this time there was no escape...

Out Of Fuel!

Motorcycle Monologues - IV

Have you ever stood in front of a crowd to speak, and then had a feeeling, that your stomach just did a somersault into the pits of Hell? Or, you were crouching to start that all important race, and your limbs feel like jelly?

If you nodded to either of those queries, you would know how I felt, as I approached her house. There was this intense desire, to just turn around, and run away. Errrr, Ride away, I guess. My head was buzzing, and there was this crazy, psycotic churning in my tummy. Like a vaccum, sucking me inside out!

But over the years, I have learnt to overcome such 'difficulties'. The trick is to keep on MOVING. Yes, movement. You need to keep on moving, physically. I think its one of those neurotic things. You keep your body moving, and the repetative, rehearsed movements of your body, have this soothing effect on your mind! Freaky? You bet...

So, I decide to ride around her house a coupla times, to calm the jumpiness inside. Its never a good idea to rush into important things, with clammy palms, and a squeaky voice sounding like a squirrel on high Octane energy drinks! Bad. Bad. Moreoever, its just not RD's style.

Being a believer of the Silva's method <>, I decided to first practise a bit of it, before approaching my 'subject'! And by now, you have correctly figured out, that I was Desperate (with a Capital 'D') to make this thing work. Life's so incomplete without Her. I mean, I so like to make her laugh, hear the sound of her voice, feel her heart beat next to mine, feel her breath on my face. I am so used to it. So, so used to it. Never really thought I would come to miss it so!

I mean, I am RD after all. Women have never been tough to find, or fall for. But never before has it hurt so much. The pain is intense. The urge to have her back, is like nothing I have ever felt before. And it is this feeling, that makes me believe that if I cannot get this woman to share my life with me, I will probably regret it, for a long, long time to come.

I have rehearsed my lines a hundred million times. I know just exactly what I want to tell her. Its simple. Its the Truth. No ego. No false pride. Just plain, simple, naked me. No unnecessary baggage. No pretense. The moment she opens the door, am gonna look her in the eyes. Unflinching. If there is even a hint of hurt, or pain in those beautiful, serene eyes of hers, I will go right ahead, and tell her how I feel, wihtout her in my life. Simple. True. And so, nothing could go wrong.

The door's open, the smell of freshly sawed wood hangs in the air like a fog, enveloping all other smells that emanate from a typical domestic household. Its a little disillusioning. According to one of the principles of Silva's Method, you visualise what you are about to do, in as much detail as you can. I had. And this new, unexpected smell, was NOT a part of it. Definitely No. That's the problem with over preparation. One thing out of place, and your whole confidence level, comes crashing down!

My heart is thumping like a steam piston with a soul of its own. The buzzing in my ears is louder than ever. I think its slowly moving, towards my head now. In some obscure corner of my mind, a now 'relegated to the sidelines RD' is screaming, no no, screeching, for me to turn back, while there's still time. My feet hesitate, and its with the greatest measures of willpower that I manage to reach out, and knock on the ajar door.

I don't like this. Not a bit. Something is wrong. It doesn't smell right. It doesn't feel right. Things are spinning a little. I think I am dizzy with this unease. And before I could turn back, and run outta the door, her mother is there, smiling at me, after it took her a coupla seconds to recognize me, with all the facial hair and all. By now, I really can't feel or hear anything. Its like am watching this whole scene unfurl, from a detached perspective. I hear myself mumble somehthing that was as close to Latin, as anything I know. And somewhere, in the middle of all that confusion, uncertainity and turmoil, I thought I made out her mom say something about her staying back at Bangalore, for the weekend.


Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Motorcycle Monologues - III

Alot of people ask me, how I can go for long rides, all alone? Its so much more natural for people to take a coupla friends along. But I never felt the need. Infact, I find it more comforting to travel alone. You are not obligated to make conversation, you can set your own schedule. Your a Free Bird, which is exactly what our daily mundane lives, don't let us be.

However, I must admit, that inspite of this, I wouldn't mind having her pillion ride with me. Oh Boy, At Your Service Miss. We have made a coupla similar rides, in happier times, and well, gotta give it to the old gal, I have never complained!

Anyways, back to the Monologues.

Its surprising, how often I can be so blind to so many things that were like, RIGHT in front of my eyes! Its like, till someone actually kicks my rear end, and tells it to me on my face, I often overlook stuff. And when I am busy running away from most people I know, there aint too many options left, but to listen to the voice inside the helmet, about getting a grip in Life. And before you start to get any illusions, let me tell you, that its DEFINITELY not one of the better ways of getting advice on your Life!

But it sure is therapeutic. Oh boy, it so is! I reached the outskirts of Mysore by around 5, and for no apparent reason, I was feeling pretty good about Life. I had heard of the Japanese hack to de-stressing, wherein an employee can go into a room, and vent his anger at a dummy mmodel of his boss, but never really thought that it'd work! But here I was, living testimony of the practicality of such a system! Amazing, what one can realise, on long, lonely motorbike rides!!!

Monday, March 12, 2007

The Motorcycle Monologues - II

My Dad always warned me against reading too many of those darned books. Sometimes, I really, really wish, I had listened to him. I mean, look at me. Just look at me. I believe I should have been born 20 years before my time, because that is the music, the attitude, the life that I can relate to. I cannot have a normal conversation with most people my age (supposedly)! I live in a Fantasy World where real life issues are over simplified, often misleadingly. Aaaarrrrggghhh!

But well, as it was, I was not ready to admit that things were too messed up for me to even try something. In my mind, I was The Good Ol' RD, out to get his life, back on track. All I had to do, was just turn up at Her doorstep, all dusty, gritty and dirty from the long ride, with that "I Am So Lost Without You, Baby" look, and she will be there, running into my arms, making promises of never going away, ever again! Wasn't it supposed to be as simple as that?

But first things first. Had to call my Best(est) friend first. My Mom. Always a good idea to take her into confidence. I remember, someone I once knew, told me that my whackiness was not really my fault. Its in my genes. And Mummy, just proved him right, all over again! She encouraged me to go right on ahead, and listen to my heart, no matter, how foolish it might seem to be.

Buoyed by this further encouragement, I think I was unstoppable. Fixed the brakes, fuelled up, stuffed in a pair of jeans and a shirt in my bag, and well, that was it. On my way to 'A Better Life', running high on faith and fuel, I was out of the city.

Mysore is 142 kms (give or take a km or two) from my house. Add to that a couple kms to her house, and well, 150 doesn't seem to be a bad estimate. All I knew of her house, was that it was near a college, where I had to take a turn near a 'Red and Yellow' flagpole, and then identify the house, from what I remembered of it, the last time round. Not very tough, considering, that I have already done this once, almost a year back! ;)

After quite a while, I was riding without those nasty earphones crushing into my ear lobes, from the pressure of the helmet. I was sceptical about it though, but well, it was fun to not be listening to something. Riding, for the pure joy of riding. The thumping of the machine, in sync with the beating of my heart, and the roar of the wind, were the only joyous sounds in my ears!

Just to kill the monotony, I started speaking to myself. It was silly scenarios, initially, like having to relate the most embarassing incident in my life, but pretty soon, I was thinking aloud, about alot of issues that have been bothering me, of late. Really, talking to myself (I know, THAT probably set new standards of insanity, but its RD after all)

And so it began, The Motorcycle Monologues!

Sunday, March 11, 2007

The Motorcycle Monologues - I

I won't refute claims that the title of this article is not original. Heck, WHAT have I ever written that has been 'Original'?!! Anyways, for those who are now getting put off by these oblique references, the inspiration for the title came from here. <>

Woke up late on Saturday morning. Loadza things are extremely messed up in my Life, right about now, and waking up early to face them again, is NOT something that I look forward to. Atleast in my DreamLand, I have the liberty to distort reality in my favor!

The day started with watching this <> And for those who are pathetically ill-informed, I am one of those jerks who actually cry, watching cartoon movies. Oh yes, I do... However, while watching this one, the tears did not come. And I was about to celebrate my Growing Up (finally), when another emotion hit me. And boy, did it hit me hard! It made me ride close to 300kms, without any prior planning!

I think the desire was born at the precise moment when RJ (watch the movie to know who HE is), said something about, 'That Is The Way To The Good Life'. I mean, that was in a wholly different context, but am sure you too have had times in your life, when you saw, what you wanted to see, and not necessarily, what was there to be seen. And if you have had the misfortune of being another RD (I am beginning to think that that is a genre now), then you have successfully made a fool out of yourself, because you failed to see the truth.

Anyways, coming back from my musings, I started to think that I too should really go after the 'Way To My Good Life'. Obviously, I had forgotten, that one should never ever listen to the whisperings of one's mind, when the rumbling in one's stomach is louder. And hence began, another of my self delusional, Fits Of Fantasy...

If your still reading, well, hop on!

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Just A Year?

Just a year? Just a year you say? Its tough to actually believe that so much has changed over, 'just a year'! Oh, you need not look far and wide for that. Just look around. Alot changes over just a year.

A happy, cheerful man becomes cynical and dissatisfied with everything around him. Folks who loved to be around each other, to talk, to play stupid, naughty games, to make illicitly pleasurable eye contact, cannot stand the sight of another, in 'just a year'. Can't talk, can't smile at each other, in a period of 'just a year'.

Yes, alot changes over a year. But is it justified for me to complain? I mean, after all, isn't change the only supposed constant in Life? Change is everywhere, you argue. Change is in the nature. Change is in Humanity. Change is Everywhere. Then why complain?

I complain, because this change is not for the better. This change is just about everything that I run away from. That I hide from. It is everything that makes me just a little bit more of a someone, that I detest. The Man in the mirror is gradually making me sick. He is not what I wanted him to be. He is not what I needed him to be.

Yes, Just A Year. It was just a year back, that I was a happy man. Waiting eagerly for Life to come, and embrace me in her arms. Seduce me into a ride to paint the town Red. Oh Yes. I remember. It was just a year back. Just A Year Back...

Nothing More, Nothing Less...

Didn't someone once say that Stillness of Heart is what gets you to Nirvana? Well, not sure I would agree whole heartedly. Today has been one of those days that really make me wonder, if I am the man, that I am supposed to be, that I pretend to be.

Everything has crashed down, all around me. However, there's no smoke, no fire. Just an old, tired broken heart. Nothing graphic. Nothing to write home about. Nothing dramatic. But this is how lives crumble. Its a slow, steady descent. Slow, but Sure.

The last shreds of hope, are slowly, but surely disappearing. I am grasping for that lone
driftwood, that I can clutch to and delay the inevitable end. But can't seem to find it. Am reaching out in all directions, but all I can see for miles, and miles around, is just the calm, undulating sea.

Nothing More. Nothing Less...