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.
Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Waking Up in A New Country
I definitely did not go to sleep last night in this country.
The country I went to sleep in had the Rajabai clock tower chiming merrily every 15 minutes. Over there, the dome of the Taj Mahal Hotel near the Gateway of India shone brightly in the evening sky, people enjoyed their drinks and music at Cafe Leopold and Colaba Causeway was a great place to hang out.
Today though, Taj Mahal dome did shine, but not because of the bulbs that usually lit it up, Rajabai clock tower's chime had lost its cheer, the only music playing at Leo's was a death knoll and Colaba Causeway became a place to hang out, not for common citizens, but for the National Security Guard (NSG) Commandos who have flown in from across the country to fight these mother-fucking terrorists.
In this country, they've even imposed curfew so we can't get out of our homes and endanger ourselves and others.
I pray for those who lost their lives and for their families fighting for their old country.
I, no, We, want our country back, the country we went to sleep in.
The country I went to sleep in had the Rajabai clock tower chiming merrily every 15 minutes. Over there, the dome of the Taj Mahal Hotel near the Gateway of India shone brightly in the evening sky, people enjoyed their drinks and music at Cafe Leopold and Colaba Causeway was a great place to hang out.
Today though, Taj Mahal dome did shine, but not because of the bulbs that usually lit it up, Rajabai clock tower's chime had lost its cheer, the only music playing at Leo's was a death knoll and Colaba Causeway became a place to hang out, not for common citizens, but for the National Security Guard (NSG) Commandos who have flown in from across the country to fight these mother-fucking terrorists.
In this country, they've even imposed curfew so we can't get out of our homes and endanger ourselves and others.
I pray for those who lost their lives and for their families fighting for their old country.
I, no, We, want our country back, the country we went to sleep in.
Friday, October 31, 2008
The Road to Recovery
It's been a sad couple of weeks. Last Wednesday, I had my first real sports injury, a partial hamstring tear and on Friday, I lost my mum-in-law to be.
The hamstring injury keeps me away from running for about 3 weeks, just when I was beginning to get some rhythm after a considerable break from long-distance running. And poof! My hamstring goes bust. In the midst of dealing with it, and it is a HUGE deal to me to miss marathon prep, my fiancee's ma passed away.
That took the wind out of my sails. And it was so sudden! Everything happened in a day, just like when Papa passed away over two years ago. It was really sad, even more so because she'll miss the wedding in a couple of months.
I'll be honest here. I didn't get to know her as well as I'd liked to, but we got on well. We'd make fun of my fiancee together, talk about cricket a little and exchange pleasantries. She was extremely warm and treated me like a son. I'll miss not having her around.
My fiancee's been very strong about it and I'm proud of her, but I won't write more about that here to respect her privacy. I think people's feelings on the loss of someone very dear should be kept private unless they volunteer to speak/write about it.
We've spent the last week dealing with the loss as a family and it's been tough. Like all such losses, I know this is one we will never fully get over. That's just the way death is. It leaves you wondering what just happened. Especially when it hits you so suddenly.
You wonder if everything you shared was a big dream. Those family holidays, the day your parent slapped you for doing something wrong, the surprisingly good report card you turned in every once in a while (read, 5 years in my case)... it feels like a different life. Surreal.
Where did they all go...
The hamstring injury keeps me away from running for about 3 weeks, just when I was beginning to get some rhythm after a considerable break from long-distance running. And poof! My hamstring goes bust. In the midst of dealing with it, and it is a HUGE deal to me to miss marathon prep, my fiancee's ma passed away.
That took the wind out of my sails. And it was so sudden! Everything happened in a day, just like when Papa passed away over two years ago. It was really sad, even more so because she'll miss the wedding in a couple of months.
I'll be honest here. I didn't get to know her as well as I'd liked to, but we got on well. We'd make fun of my fiancee together, talk about cricket a little and exchange pleasantries. She was extremely warm and treated me like a son. I'll miss not having her around.
My fiancee's been very strong about it and I'm proud of her, but I won't write more about that here to respect her privacy. I think people's feelings on the loss of someone very dear should be kept private unless they volunteer to speak/write about it.
We've spent the last week dealing with the loss as a family and it's been tough. Like all such losses, I know this is one we will never fully get over. That's just the way death is. It leaves you wondering what just happened. Especially when it hits you so suddenly.
You wonder if everything you shared was a big dream. Those family holidays, the day your parent slapped you for doing something wrong, the surprisingly good report card you turned in every once in a while (read, 5 years in my case)... it feels like a different life. Surreal.
Where did they all go...
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
I'll Never Get Over You
This is one of my favourite songs ever from the 'Garden State' movie soundtrack. It's called 'I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You' by Colin Hay.
I'm taking the song out of its romantic context and dedicating this to my father who passed on in June 2006. We had a puja (prayer ceremony) for him the other day commemorate the anniversary of his passing last week (according to the Hindu calendar).
Listen to the song if you've the time. If you've loved and lost someone, the lyrics, the guitar strums and the sad musical strains will touch you. Not in a bad way, but in a sad yet beautifully ironic way.
I hope you like it. Here is the video along with the lyrics. (There's a couple lines in the song that are inappropriate for the context I've chosen, for Papa, the one about being asked to dinner and the line after.)
I just watched it and it's brought me, nearly, to tears. Love you, Papa. Wherever you are, some of you will always be with me.
I'm taking the song out of its romantic context and dedicating this to my father who passed on in June 2006. We had a puja (prayer ceremony) for him the other day commemorate the anniversary of his passing last week (according to the Hindu calendar).
Listen to the song if you've the time. If you've loved and lost someone, the lyrics, the guitar strums and the sad musical strains will touch you. Not in a bad way, but in a sad yet beautifully ironic way.
I hope you like it. Here is the video along with the lyrics. (There's a couple lines in the song that are inappropriate for the context I've chosen, for Papa, the one about being asked to dinner and the line after.)
I just watched it and it's brought me, nearly, to tears. Love you, Papa. Wherever you are, some of you will always be with me.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Caribbean Monk Seal - R.I.P.
The Caribbean Monk SealI can't tell you how sad I felt when I read this in the papers yesterday. A horrible helpless sadness.
How long will we humans live like the world was meant for only our "consumption"? How long will continue to systematically destroy our planet while we spend our lives lusting after more of everything?
Some day, all our indulgences are going to come back and bite us so hard in the ass that we will regret every little one of them. And it'll be too late.
I guess it's a cycle. We're (I include myself here) too stupid to understand how our lives and our lifestyles will destroy us.
Private jets, highly fuel-inefficient Hummers, food wastage, smoking, our hour-long drives to work in private transport, all our greed... it's all going to come back.
I'm not even sure we can reverse the damage we've done. I don't know. The least we can do, nay, must do, is to live as eco-friendly as possible. Because one day, the Caribbean Monk Seal's fate will be our own. The saddest part—we'd have "hunted" ourselves down.
To read more, click here.
P.S. The Hawaiian and Mediterranean Monk Seals are also at a high risk of extinction. If nothing else, pray for them.
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