घुड़सवार

I know you’ve heard a lot about the Indian monsoons,

but I bet you have not heard about the Indian winters,

the ones in Lonavala are the best. Lonavala lies

between Mumbai and Pune on the map. Not a city,

barely a town, its winters were pure pleasure. I remember

the cotton candies in the school’s Christmas fare,

you’d normally get them in summer, but not here.

For winters were warm and sunny skies were the norm.

I remember coming back to boarding school thinking

that I would make the most of this pleasant weather

but alas I was dismayed when I learned I had to show up

at 5 am on the fields for practice march. The school had

an annual sports day coming, and we all had to execute

the perfect coordination with our group. Every day we

had to show up earlier than the sun. Our bodies barely

awake while our faces mourned. But as soon as the first set

of rays would hit, we would shine, and all our heartbreaks would

be fine. Our circadian rhythm would align and soon

we’d be in class at nine. Till then we’d have had an hour

and a half of practice, a glass and a half of milk. In class

we’d study the Frost poem, the lines read, “Two roads

diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both.”

I hadn’t seen autumn leaves, and our class wasn’t well acquainted

with fall. Frost’s woods were yellow, our winters were gold,

unaware of how our lives would unfold. Other winters came and went,

one where I was in school during break. The football fields,

empty they were. I danced and twirled. Happy, oh I was

and the sunny winter sky, oh there it was. Once, a whole lot of years later

I made the mistake of going back to Lonavala in the winter season,

dead is how everything looked and it seemed like our past was long gone.

Future remained frail and heated. It was too hot for winters. Spring

and summer would almost be unbearable if I were to come back again.

It is as if someone lit a match to Frost’s world and soon enough the flames

will catch up to our dreams, maybe then, just then—we will become aware

of how our lives did unfold, diminishing everything but us and our selfish needs.