The early morning breeze hitting me on my face, sending a happy shiver of cold down my sculpted back. The hair on my bulky arms raise in unison, angry at the sudden exposure of nascent skin to the harshness of the weather. I lose the slightest trace of tire and wear at the sight of the brilliant orange of the sun, slowly revealing itself from the depths behind the blanket of the whitest clouds. I am best dressed for the morning. A skimpy shirt and a white dothi. The symbol of the contemporary nomad. The sun had just woken up the birds with its warm beads light. The best felling in the world when you are standing bare foot on the road and the birds are singing the morning song up in the heavens. I filled my lungs up with the fresh morning air. Neatly slid the ear phones of my then latest MP3 player, into the ridges of my ear. They sat there, snug, like they were made for me. The music was floating in like it were from the very air around me. It personified everything fresh.
I was leaning forward, arms stiff and out stretched. The wind trying with its acclaimed might to split my hair. My knuckles white from gripping the throttle for so long. My legs weary from the sudden and unsuspected braking and my thighs, holding my dothi to the tank.
Theres music in my ears, blocking any possible distraction for the outside. I am tapping my feet on the brake pedal.
("She's got eyes of the bluest skies...)
God bless Guns and Roses...
(She takes me away to that special place..)
How can he sing like that???
(I'd prob'ly break down and cry...)
Well, exactly at this point of time, I realize that I am not stretched out on a hammock, but driving on a busy road at what can be plainly described as "Break Neck Speed".
I slow down,
(I got a problem, much more in demand...
Theres world hunger, not enough to eat,
So much curroption, police brutality...)
When the hell did Michael start singing???
(Why you wanna trip on me??
Oooh stop trippin'...YEAH stop trippin'...Everybody jus' stop trippin')
I hit a turn at something close to 50 kmph. My slippers scrape the gravel on the road when I lean into the turn. I am hit by a wave of adrenaline. I slow down again while I hum to t=Micheal's amazing music. Its just awesome...I cant fathom how someone can create such a thing of immense beauty.
The song slowly melts into another song thats just as moving.
(Can I act like an angel, if I live like a jerk??
Can I keep on disguising, Can I make believe what I dont decieve, No No No....)
The lyrics just fall in place...Its like these people write with you in mind...
(Dirty money in my left hand, while the preacher's shaking my right hand,
They made me a winner, they made me a sinner)
I almost hit a man crossing the street and move on with his morning pleasentaries still ringing in my ears and my stomach.
( Time can never mend the careless whispers of a good friend
To the heart and mind, ignorance is kind
there's no comfort in the truth
pain is all you'll find)
That was the next thing I remember...Oh...by the way...wham was just a coincidence...The wham I mention above it the sound that was generated when I hit a bike crossing the road. I had hit him head on...at 60...I had knocked his handlebar and forks clean off his bike...And the "slap" is the people knocking me back to my senses.
Everything that followed next is still like a fairy tale.
I no longer go out with my head phones safely in my mother's hands. My mother mother bought me a brand new helmet to better protect my already fried brains. And I have live (happily) ever after. I do not miss my chance to laugh (I am not sure if that was because I hit my head in that little fiasco).