Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Running #37

Today's Run
Distance: A little less than 7 km (not sure)
Time: 40 min and a few seconds (not sure, don't care)

The toughest run I've done in a long time. Towards the end, every step felt like a kilometre.

It was one of those days when you wake up in the morning and the body is saying 'No, not today... please!' But I dragged my ass out of bed and made it to Marine Drive. I ran a shorter distance for two reasons:
1. I didn't have the heart to go by the Oberoi this morning. Dunno, just didn't feel up to passing the scene of so much pain and bloodshed. Not today at least.
2. Zero energy. I was low on energy even before I began the run. I can't explain it. Neither my mind nor my body were willing today. On off days, either the mind powers the body to go on or vice-versa. Today though, both ran out on me. Literally.

I'm going to run tomorrow again. Maybe I'll run some other place tomorrow morning just for a change of scene. Let's see.

Monday, December 01, 2008

Dazed and Confused

The last week flew by in a daze. The terrorist attacks have been numbing leaving me angry, helpless and confused.

Fortunately, our TV wasn't accessible because of some painting work for most of the days the siege was on, but the entire episode has left a mark on me. The mere thought that most of the places that were attacked are places my friends and family frequent really shook me. Plus the added necessity of remaining indoors for three days and not being able to do much was extremely depressing.

Friday evening, I decided to step out for a run with my iPod. I wanted to run away from all this violence and death and gloom to another world. So I put on my headphones and hit Marine Drive. The city was enveloped in an eerie silence. Few people out on the streets and fewer cars zipping by. It was like a ghost town, relatively speaking.

My mind was numb as I pounded away with my back towards the Oberoi. It was ironic that I was enjoying a "pleasant" evening run while a game of life and death unfolded less than a kilometre away. I was torn. A part of me wanted to go there and kill the terrorists, but another part of me knew I would harm innocent lives if I did. That apart from having zero knowledge about guns. I'd be a liability. But it was that feeling of not being able to do much that really got to me.

While I continue with work and try to get on with the rest of my life, there is still a lingering sense of frustration and helplessness that bothers me. Usually I'm out like a light by 10.15 pm, but these days I stare at the ceiling or the light creeping in from the windows.

What do you do when there is all this blood, gore and death around you and the only survivor amongst the terrorists really believes that jannat (heaven) is waiting for him in the after-life for his 'noble acts for Islam'? Is this what Islam has been reduced to? A manual for death? And it's not just Islam really, we have successfully destroyed the true spirit of every existing religion.

Without doubt, we are a race in crisis and I believe that if we do not mend our ways, we will self-destruct like earlier life forms that have inhabited the planet.