Elegies written in a cyber churchyard
I'm feeling funereal today. So maybe I should write an elegy. Better still, I'll write two elegies...
* * *
Five years is a long while to spend with someone. In this case, literally ON someone. In sunlight and halogen-bright; rain and shine; at 20 and at 55; on road and on no-roads. Like a young buffalo, black, strong yet sleek, washed, polished, shining and agile - dependable. And in the later years, like an old buffalo, sometimes undependable, sluggish, mule-ish,with a tendency to stop when and where she wants to, chewing the cud in the middle of the road. Nothing that a solid kick could not remedy, though. Most times.
After all, you come to love the rebellion, the spirit grows on you.
Until it is time to sell her. For 10 grand. She has served me well through five years, and served me best on the dying breath. It is appropriate I write an elegy for my Scooty. Go well, then, buddy. Go well with your new rider. I hope he/she treats you well.
* * *
Often times you do not know the value of something unless you've lost it. Like this.
I have lost my capacity to put up with the heat.
Frankly, I'm a summer bug, always been one - I love the heat and warmth of the sun. Since I've lived all my life in Chennai, it was some kind of a protection mechanism, I guess: "If you can't beat the heat, love it." Consequently, I was never in danger of having a sunstroke or collapsing in a sunny patch. Especially in the days when I started working, when I used to take the bus and walk wherever I had to go to and boy, was there work to do or what! I cribbed loudly, along with everyone else, but the fact of the matter was that it really bounced off me. No effect, nada, zilch.
Now, I've lost it. That capacity not to be touched by the sun. This is an elegy to that.
Never been so hot and bothered before. Today, I was walking into office and everything was a mirage wave around me, waving past me in blurred shades, but mostly hot and whilte! I did not make that up - my sense of humour is tuned onto a different frequency.
But is it my imagination or are we having one of the hottest summers ever in Chennai's history. Unfortunately, it is my imagination, much as I would like to believe otherwise. The MET department swears with statistics that we've had worse summers before. I'm partial to statistics, but I still don't think so, because I've never been so hot and bothered before. Oops, I've said that before. Forgive me, it is the heat. And I've lost it.