Where does the race start? The Performance at S.I.T (A Land Far Far Away) was miserable but the Musician Posse managed to make the simple crowd morph manic.
The worthless wait for the results of a fecal sound system, though the crowd lifted our band ethos, was nonetheless worthless. So worthless that i had wasted what everyone had always said, though i was never much of a listener for the conforms of the prosaic society, was priceless; Time.
Time is so priceless in fact that if i could have a bag full of it I could have met Julius Caesar, Jesus Christ, Adolf Hitler, Jimmy Hendrix and many other pioneer Rock stars who the Sun had cast a light upon and could view with such radiant perceptibility. What a power house of a crowd the sun would be, just a sole entity which knew every personality that existed, exists and will. What a band manager it would make!
Where does the race start again? Don't i have a bus to catch to Guruvayur at 8:15 p.m?
At 7:05 p.m we leave in a hurry-spasm, frustrated and still worried. After the car drop at Far Away by my bands guitarist I had to catch an auto rickshaw to go Away. Away is in fact the Furthest Away and I needed to reflect and forget what love or these sticky connections were, a hypothetical weak thread of a web spun by ethereal yet dangerous creatures.
I reached the Bus Stop at Far Away exactly 10 seconds before the moving air-conditioned Palanquin drove Away, i grabbed my bag from my father and jumped on. A 5 second stop anywhere for the pettiest of lame issues on the path would've killed my Trip for Voluntary Societal Exile (Clarity) and the Process of Evolution(Mental and Emotional Growth), so that once again i would convince myself I was but a Neanderthal before this. This way I slide through Time immersed in a Thought which would become the Proof of the Cause.
A Tedious night of sleeplessness in the Bus and a late arrival at Guruvayur made it all the more worth it. I could feel the strings beginning to slim down. I was miserable no doubt but my misery must mean something soon enough.
The honest truth? We all love to feel miserable, its a feeling that caresses the psyche in its strange and engulfing ways. But how many nights of honey coated dreams which would haunt me in such absorbing(for consecutive hours) and vicious ways? The flawless beauty of the dream just made it a Nightmare.
After I met my friend who stayed at Away i continued to face the day in wait of this absolution or revelation i have tried but haven't had anywhere.
We drove to a ground somewhere in the branching maze of the narrow streets and something new awaited to inspire me.
Dirt Bike racing is the sought after, prestigious and exclusive sport for the lower - middle class masses of this sacred and wild piece of God's own country. The Adrenaline Was Me as i saw and screamed my misery out while leaning over the plastic tape track side-railing, at the biker scrapping and scattering dirt, as furious encouragement while it rained. The utter mess of the surrounding situation triggered an empathy with the Slush in my brain and the Misery was Dying Slowly as were my Past Bonds. When the misery of my love surmounted the love not reciprocated then the helpless lost hatred bred, but wait, I released all of my emotions till I couldn't speak a word as my Throat should give and gave Every Single Bit of its Life and Capacity to Feel as well as the Hearts! I spat everything out. Then why does it still hurt?
My Biker friend placed Second in his race(G.G) and for some sublime reasons i believe i was never even in the running for mine as mine couldn't care enough about the steps my feet took as too many feet marched and clouded mine, or worse I was misleading myself all along. How will i ever be complete if i don't finish? Am i even running on the right path? How can I ask without a voice? Though I am sure I ran a lost cause into some vague revelatory understanding why does it still hurt so sickeningly heart?
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