Nivedita Das Narayan

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.

{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 ...