Sultry Mornings

Those of you who know me know that I try to be regular about my morning walks.
For new friends, here's the link to Random Mornings, which I wrote some years ago: http://dipalitaneja.blogspot.com/2008/05/from-morning-walker-who-is-temporarily.html

And now,
Even the early mornings are hot and humid,
the city reeling with the heat
and power failures
and a monsoon turned Godot,
eternally waited for.

And yet,
Something drives me,
to do this for me
just for me
and indirectly, of course,
for those I love.
But mostly for me-
the hour I spend on the road
each morning
Sweat springing from every pore
within the first ten minutes
Each dab and pat
with the little towel I carry
a futile gesture.

It is still a sacred time, and a special time, and a precious time
When my body revels in motion
even in the aches and pains
which are frequent companions
And I try and push and keep pushing the limits
of what I can endure.

I also have now
my wonderful virtual companions,
The sisterhood of the sweatpants,
(see comment no.11)
egging me on-
and the tired and aching muscles respond.
Another five minutes, another round,
And then, when you think that
dragging your carcass back home
is the only sane option,
there's enough of a breeze
to charge you up
for yet another round.....

It's amazing how relative things are:
In winter, leaving the snug warmth
of my bed is difficult,
and in summer it's leaving
the coolness of the bedroom.
Same body, same bed!

The morning still remains
magical, with Mr and Mrs Kite
nesting on the gulmohar tree
their mellifluous cries
belying their predatory nature.

The white bougainvillea
pours over a high wall
a frothy bridal bouquet
And I remember
the neem in Noida
with a bridal veil
of magenta bougainvillea
caressing it.


The walkers seem to display
their sweat stained clothes with pride,
a testimony to their endurance.
Many regulars are missing,
citing the heat.
But once it rains,
perforce, we have to stay home
umbrellas less than useless in a storm,
waterlogged roads drenching our shoes
regular walks postponed indefinitely

So I'll push on each morning,
pushing/punishing my body,
hoping that it'll rain, yet glad that it doesn't.
The fruit seller at the end of our lane
where I stop on the final leg and pick up,
mostly, two bananas, some sweet limes
the occasional papaya,
(We have a 'running' account)
He's usually there by a quarter past five,
part of the morning territory,
a witness to the exertions
with which I start my day.

From there home is just a stone's throw away
an achievable goal
with fresh dry clothes
and a glass of water with a lemon
squeezed into it
and the blessed fan.
Such great relief
needs to be earned!