It was raining. I wore black. Which, without really consulting a mirror, I think hides wetness well. Mind, I did not consult a mirror, so perhaps I am wrong. Whatever. Who cares? At my age...
This is a blog post that ludwig was supposed to write. Especially given that I specifically asked him to. Since he hasn't, I take the burden upon myself. Always the shoulders, always the burden. Thats Kenny.
Saturday dawned dark and dreary. I clutched my phone as I am wont to in the wee hours, taking care to press on the right and not the left (left switches off the alarm, right snoozes it). The homies were sleeping blissfully, breathing (and snoring, respectively), in harmonized manner. I love them a lot when they are asleep, especially when they have not entangled themselves into me and dug their hands (one smooth and soft, the other very rough) into the small of my back in a knotty knot, are not breathing on my face, and have given me the space I justly deserve, in our bed. The bed which I have covered currently in a navy blue sheet with six-petal-white-flowers drawn on it.
So I jumped out. Sat long run. Bring it. I looked outside the window. All dark. All monsoon-y. But in a nice way. Not like nasty Mumbai - somehow I hated the Mumbai rains except for the first fifteen days of the season. I used to wear a raincoat and carry an umbrella for a large part of those four months of rain. I like the Chennai rains. My indiscretions of the weekend usually catch up with me on Wednesday, hump day, as it were. I am hoping I will not change my mind on this, the day after tomorrow. Anyhow it was not a real long run. Just a short 10 km or thereabouts.
Messages back and forth. A quick call to ludwig. An increasing sense of my own lunacy. I ignored all the nagging thoughts. Slush. Puddles. Water. Soakedness of clothes (after all, modesty, above all! modesty!). Monster's half-day of school. Fuck it. I am going. I wheeled my cycle out. The asics can use a bit of a wash, I remember thinking.
I had many thoughts. I crossed many puddles and pools. I got soaked within seconds of leaving the house, and so I rode my cycle into the puddles with impunity. I used to love to do that in school but mum would kick my ass about it so that would make me hesitate. Now, I am the master of my domain (and do my own laundry, thank you), so ha! I appreciated the dry-fit material of my clothes extensively. I felt encouraged thinking about how I have always been a bit of a mountain goat - I don't fall easily. I especially loved the green fresh look of the campus. And the waterproof-ness of my Timex. Sivey and Ludwig, after giving me those weird looks from inside the car, finally got out after a while and ran. It stopped raining too. I don't remember sweating. I don't remember much, except that it was awesome.
"Are you fucking insane?" asked the husband when I returned home. All pumped up on endorphins, soggy wet, and jubilant and extra-energetic. "I guess so. But it was great fun" I said, as I dried out my hair and showered....