Running With the Rain

As I ran 

the sweat came

And came the rain.

I was running.

It softened a lot of my inside, slowly.

Maybe, it washed away bits of I and Me 

that I carried in the sweat?

A smile framed my lips as I felt the 

tightness melt away;

With salty dews of rain running down my face,

Stinging my eyes as it mingled with my sweat.

Palpable lightness.

Could it be that the sweat carried the burden of my expectation? 

Or the math of clocking the anticipated miles?

Does predisposition burden us?

Or does it disallow exultation?  

Does sweat induce pride in athletes? 

Or does it comfort and spur on?

Could it be that lightness comes when the run melts into nothingness?

What is Nothingness after all

but the unbridled joy when my mind empties into those minutes of plugging in, plodding on 

and simply running.

Perhaps. Surely.

Because the Mountain Knows

{With mighty Kili watching over. (Pic courtesy: Rajesh Ramakrishnan)}

Because the Mountain knows.

HE knew the moment I set foot on Him, 
there is little chance of straying too far away; 
certainly not for very long.

Because the Mountain knows.

HE knew, while stripping me off a lot, 
most of all, rearranging my sense of 'I'; 
the sense that got toggled around on its axis; 
a reframing of 'what makes 
me' and 'what (all) I possibly can be'.

Because the Mountain knows.

His magnificence is in his benevolence, 
the benevolence of the 'knowing' he imparts.

The hard and the soft, coexisting.

The certain invincibility of purpose and possibilities, 
together and simultaneously. 

The certain timelessness within a finite moment : 
as in the moment of my physical body striving against the odds, 
to touch the summit; 
and the soulful timelessness of reaching the Peak.

Because the Mountain knows.

Because that must be what the Mountain wants us to imbibe; 
as he stands tall and towering over us. 

Invincible in Purpose and towering in Possibilities. 

Purpose made me set foot on him 
and the allure of possibilities as my fuel, 
kept alive my intention to climb, to summit. 

To have climbed those odds, 
to have crossed the steep, craggy, ungenerous terrain HE hosts, 
is the 'knowing' that will always remain in me. 

Could I have climbed higher than his highest? 
Perhaps. Possibly.

That's the abiding limitlessness that the Mountain teaches. 
And this now will forever be the inner pool 
of my knowing and courage.

That possibility, that promise of a steeper, limitless climb 
will always fuel my world of dreams and dares. 


Because now I know.

Because that's how I see the Mountain exist.
Standing tall in a changing, unrepentant landscape,
with the ever-transient clouds, glaciers, 
the feisty flora and fauna as companions; 

All so malleable and adapting 
to the constancy of hardship and survival.


Yet, So accepting. So giving.


Because glaciers melt.
Because the clouds do swell into rain 
and at times, are swept away too. 
Because the winds do blow and manifest, 
just like many-a-time the clouds spill over 
and wet all that HE cohabits.

There is no process, least of all any pattern. 


The only pattern is Uncertainty; the only hue is that of Change. 

And huddled in this ever-changing fellowship 
HE stamps his undubious presence.

Because the mountain always knows. 
To exist in this uncertain and changing milieu 
is what gives him his knowing.

Just as HE always knew about ME.

The Mountain always knew 
that once I acquaint with these threads of his existence; 
I will view my own in braver, kinder, softer shades. 

That I will see how life is made of many polarities: 
that Uncertainty is an Opportunity, 
that the timeless can take shape in a finite moment.

And that's how I will learn 
how not to look for obviousness or 
define life by limitedness; 

And I will learn how to entertain possibilities 
and dare to prepare for them.


Just like the Mountain, I will learn to know.

##

{In March 7-13 this year, I ventured to summit Mt. Kilimanjaro, up to the Uhuru peak, the highest African peak standing at 5896 meters a.m.s.l. For anyone who is familiar with the seven route-options up to the peak, we took the Rongai Route in an acclimation + climb + descent route planned over 7 days.

After 5 days of climbing and acclimatising with the oxygen sparse altitude beyond 4000 meters, we (with my group of 7 fellow trekkers) finally summited at 8:30 am on March 12, after a gruelling 9-hr. climb up an unforeseen terrain through a starry, full-moon night. An experience as surreal, as vivid, as awe-inspiring as the starry night and the sunrise, the accompanying wonders of nature wombed within those hours of climb. The summit-night called upon the deepest reserve of endurance and individual (and collective) will. Although not quite the very last! The last hour was entirely about the deepest-dig into the very last ounce of intention and courage. 

Would I do it again? Definitely!

Looking back, while it's been easier to talk about the physical imprint of this climb on me; the processing of its influence on my soul, my spirit has been much slower. There's no framework or questionnaire to capture all that the experience has brought to me. In fact, the process of assimilation is yet underway and thoughts do continue to arrive at my level of consciousness, even as I write. 

Putting words to my thoughts is what gives me a sense of absorbing an experience and these lines are (so far) a sum of what I brought back with me from the Mighty Kilimanjaro, at a metaphysical level perhaps}.