Speed Tears

10 A.M.
I hop into my workplace with this wide moronic grin plastered across my face. People wonder why im smiling at the beginning of the day with no apparent reason. The confused receptionist has already named me 'atrangi', meaning 'wierdo' in marathi.

What these people miss to notice, is the fast fading streak of tears from my eyes, that make a moist line towards my temple. No, they arent the sad, cranky, wistful tears. I havent been crying.

They are what I have come to call SPEED TEARS.

9.30 A.M
I'm late. I'm droopy. And I'm naked in the bathroom screaming for a towel.
I have half an hour. Half an hour to dress up, have my milkshake, put on my shoes and reach my work place thats a 25 minute bike ride from home.

9.45 A.M.
I'm almost done. Ready to get off to work. The milk is still trickling down the edge of my lips when i wipe it off and reach for my helmet.
I waddle down to the ground floor. I put on my helmet. I turn the keys, switch it on, and it roars to life.
My bike's got to save the day again!

9.52 A.M
I crawl out of the traffic ridden in roads and reach the circle. The signal guards the highway lies straight ahead. I inch my way through, to the fore of the traffic that's rearing to go.
The cross lane halts. I rev my engine.

RED. RED. RED. GREEN!
vrrrrrroooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmm!
I'm off. Streaking way ahead of the rest. Almost on a single wheel when i break off. The machine cuts a neat lead at 70 kmph. The wind brushes past me, filling the helmet with air.

The Open Road.
This is where it begins. A stupid smile makes its way across my face as i switch gears to the 5th.The longest stretch of open road that i encounter everyday begins to blur thru the visor.Every bump, every crevice of this road is pre-mapped in my mind. Visibility is not much of a question here.

80 kmph.
The wind tears harder and harder across me as i continue to accelerate. Im deaf to the world. The only sounds i can hear is the wind that kisses me through my visor. and the engine thats keeps on getting louder.90 kmph. The rate of acceleration is reaching a plane. My hand goes off the clutch to slide open my visor and the wids rips past my face. As i narrow my eyes and speed ahead, the engine revs to its limits.

95 Kmph.
The wind is forcing a steady stream through my eyes. I can feel the cold caress of th tears that are streaking from my eyes.No these arent the tears that are caused by dust particles flying into your eyes. or by smoke. or pain. these arent the tears that hurt. These are not those.

In a way it's strange how speeding down an open road changes those very
tears that generally burn your eyes when your heart bleeds, into something that
make your heart beat faster than ever. How the very same tears that burn down
your face when you weep give you a sense of calm as they caress your skin. How
the very same tears that hurt so bad, feel like nirvana on a speeding road.

100 kmph.
Adrenaline is high. My mind is racing. The silence is a roar. the world is a moist blur.
and my smile is complete!

CLUTCH.
As the road comes to another signal i let the accelerator go as i sail into the stop. My day is set already.

10 A.M.
I hop into my workplace with this wide moronic grin plastered across my face. People wonder why im smiling at the beginning of the day with no apparent reason. The confused receptionist has already named me 'atrangi', meaning 'wierdo' in marathi. What these people miss to notice, is the fast fading streak of tears from my eyes, that make a moist line towards my temple. No, they arent the sad, cranky, wistful tears. I havent been crying.

They are what I have come to call SPEED TEARS.