Sometimes a palanquin journey to
carry the angel of our dreams, sometimes an excuse to vent our frustration on
the innocent pedestrian through our swearword screams, but almost all the time,
at least for me, the late night bike ride home, is a frustrated guy’s only
chance to shed some tears, to race against commitment fears and most
importantly a chance to breath that fragrant waft of fresh air called ‘Freedom’
A mystic midnight, a
half waning moon; the empty highway extends a soothing embrace
A flickering headlight,
a fast fading shadow; images of a chimeric pillion’s angelic face
A sweltering sandstorm,
a dust spangled forehead; parched -look the cloudless skies,
A dollop of a drizzle,
wetting me a trifle; frosty past melts from my foggy eyes
And then,
I rub the rear view
mirror off its melancholic stain
Prickly pages erased
from life’s panorama of pain
A reckless kick-start, a
paralyzing pang; bulging bruises fail me to choke
A jarring engine, an out
of tune melody; cacophonic lullaby usurps the nocturnal folk
A soaring speedo, a
face-slapping wind; the airy mistress unbuttons my silken shirt
A tire’s sensuous
smooch, a moaning virgin road; rubber proves to be the ultimate flirt
And there,
I throw my bags to belch
out a relaxed breath
The haunting ghosts of
commitment die a silent death
A muddy stretch of road,
a screechy disk brake, temporary skid in my eternal race
A confusing crossroad, a
betel stained signboard; weeds of doubt itch my hesitant face
A thirsty fuel tank, a
flattening front tire; time for the road warrior to rise from the ashes
A tilt of the bike, a
thud of the engine, a life with a new lease fortunately flashes,
And thus,
I mirthfully meandered
through the less travelled road
Adventure was indeed
this vagrant’s real abode
And now,
As the blooming
bougainvillea’s early morning dew
Bids a moist adieu,
I never turn back,
The ceasing engine keeps
on chugging,
Hacking horizons,
spitting smoke,
Fuelling dreams running
amok,
For its final vroom,
Towards a much needed reincarnation
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