Dull Mornings

He could not make sense of what he was doing—or why he was doing it. Warm rays of the sun gleamed in from outside through the window in total silence while dry light from two screens sitting on his desk bought acute pain to sleepy eyes.

Just yesterday, the Sunday morning, he was elated at this exact time. The touch of the handlebars felt strangely comfortable as he sped along the wavy, narrow path stretching through green fields of paddy.

The sun was yet to scorch everything in its sight as the warm morning slowly gave way to the sweaty noon. Paddling leisurely with no destination on mind can be as calming as daydreaming while looking out the window at school, he thought, although it was more than almost 7 years since he finished school. The mind has its own way of thinking, almost as if there are more than a single person inside the head. The words that were not spoken, the gestures that were not followed, and the days that were not lived, might lead to a place too dull and dead, even if surrounded by a thousand friends.