It was raining when I got up. Dhup dhup. North India might still be desperate for monsoons, but rains have been pouring here in Orissa since more than a week now. I didn’t know if I wanted to run outside and get drenched. I ate the boiled eggs anyway. I ate the eggs standing in the balcony, witnessing the day begin. Air was cool. I decided to get drenched. I hit the road.
The traffic on the roads was minimal. People sheltering themsevles under shades of all kinds, often looked at me like they had never seen a runner in the rain before. Thanks to the shoes that gained a lot of extra weight from the rain-water that accumulated inside them, the 8k run went slow. Nevertheless, it was refreshing in the end. In fact, I was so refreshed that I wondered if I wanted to gym and get sweaty anymore. But then the realization that I wont be able to do much of running or gymming for at least 10 days in this month, helped me decide on gymming. I would be off on my next vacation (to Meghalaya this time) with family next week.
This week shall end today and I am already depressed. How can I ever describe the ineffable agony of the weekends? I wish sometimes that friends dropped like raindrops and I never had to feel this way – dull and vapid. But on second thoughts, if that really happened – like friends started dropping dhup dhup from above – then we won’t realize how valuable they are,Â would we?