Of hamster wheels and space-time travelers

They’re the clingers.
They’re the anchorites
living in tiny cubicles,
scared shitless,
holding on
to their dear lives,
holding tightly
to the surface of the planet
like suckermouth catfish in an aquarium.
They are tethered to the daily grind, 
lured into the flytrap
of rat races and blinding lights,
mired
in the whirlpool of trials and judgements.

And then,
there’re the space-time travelers.
The planet and the skies
travel across the cosmic expanse 
at a speed of 67,000 miles per hour.
The travelers know
they’re a part of this odyssey. 
They know
they must drift along with the harmony,
they taste the stardust,
they revel in the wanderlust,
they are super aware that their awakening existence
is deeply woven into the fabric of the universe, 
into the becoming. 

The mountain people

18000 feet above sea-level.

A long way from the comfort of home,
a long way from the deafening silence of her departure,
existing on another mute plane,
and dragging my frame & my screaming lungs
towards another level of numbness.
Cold winds
slap against my bearded face,
and pierce through the seemingly hollow bones.
They howl the secrets of the starry skies
and the timeless philosophies of man & beast.
 
Near a precipice of shining black rock,
my legs give up
and I collapse on the snow.
The shadow of a Himalayan vulture
looms over my exhausted spirit.
The old man
carrying my luggage and gear
beams a smile
and extends his hand.
The wrinkles and the charm
become more prominent.
'This too shall pass.
The mountains take care of you', he affirms.
I hold his callused hand firmly
and get back on my feet.
I follow the man
as he leads the way
towards another evening
in the white wilderness.
 
The setting sun
splashes its vibrant colors
on the turquoise lakes in the valley below.
It's the season of rhododendrons.
 
I take a deep breath
and open my eyes again.
The splendour of the summit
comes in full view.
The old man disappears,
the vulture disappears,
the mountains disappear.
The pain hibernates in the refuge.

(to my dearest friend and fellow space-time traveler, Sushanth Kodela)