Rider

RIDER

“All this happened one day, kind of suddenly. I got up and I started to walk. The road was so inviting. I went on marching. Like all this time I was sleeping and just woke up. Then came a stage where my legs would not move, so I decided to ride. And ever since I travel roads after roads; may be till either the fuel gets over or the road ends. Fortunately, neither has gone empty so far. I halt for refuel and if I ever see an end to the road well, always find a service road.”

“In the mornings if I am riding east I see the sun rising on my face. That orangish-red sphere of fire of life, I salute it and go on. And at night when it’s going down asks me why won’t I stop? “But I have to run with the stars and moon”
It won’t complain. It just disappears and sees me the following day and the day after. The wind some times runs with me, trying to race me. But she is too fast. Like a restless and playful child she whooshes from right to left and forth and back. Then, all of a sudden she goes far and hides behind the bush. I just smile and move on.”

“Often do I see folks giving me that look! Some envy some love it, some just look and shook their shoulders. But that does not stop me.”

“That’s why I say, I am a lone rider. I ride at sunset I ride at sunrise. The road I travel on never ends. I ride to see the mountain that peeps from behind another and the one behind it too. I ride to see the river, as she molds her cool blue arms around the mountain.
I ride to experience the season change in front of my eyes, to see the leaves turn green in rain and brown in summer and the flowers laughing a million smiles from above the trees, watch their petals come twirling in slow motion singing when the road is empty.”

“This one time I saw a hitchhiker waiting for a ride. I went to him. He sat behind me and pointed towards the tiny spot at distance. I started the machine. When we reached the village he got down and waved good bye. There found a new road, branching from earlier one.
Kicked the bike and buzz I went, yet another friend to make.”

“So I am a lone rider, I ride may be because I am destined to do so.”
With a click I closed the pen. I had to. The rider was not in mood to talk anymore. He was looking at the setting sun, with admiration pouring out of his eyes, saying bye. Then he moved towards his bike, I saw him mount on that machine. And with dusty clouds behind, he went to check his next appointment with starry night.