Morning walk. It has always been something I eagerly looked forward to. I was in NIT Silchar then. The morning air was always fresh and a little cold, soft sun-rays would gently kiss my body, birds would fly over my head making me envy their freedom, swans swam in the lakes and Mr. Adams would sing Summer of 69 into my ears. The roads curved and twisted like a snake and sometimes when nobody was looking, I would spread out my arms and run zig-zag, pretending to fly like a bird! I believe I used to smile my widest then. It wasnt merely twenty minutes of exercise. It was twenty minutes of pure bliss and unstoppable freedom. Three thousand kilometres away, the air smells different. Im not in NIT Silchar anymore. In this part of the world they have cut down all the trees, leaving me wondering: where did all the little birds go? Ive been told that the people here do not have the time to admire sunsets, or to smile at the wind. There is not enough air to breathe, not enough space to stand. My morning walk is now confined within four white walls on a machine where the road moves at the press of a button. Its merely twenty minutes of exercise now, with calculated speed, distances and burned calories.
Posted on: Wed, 23 Jul 2014 10:34:34 +0000
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