I was on the run again. I don’t know why I used “again” here. You need to stop a particular activity, do something else, and then resume the first one to use the term “again”. It’s clearly wrong here as I don’t remember ever doing anything other than run.
There are corridors. There are always corridors. There are windows all along on the sides. Each window different from the other, but you notice patterns, repeating patterns. You pay attention and they separate, you keep looking ahead or at some point in front of you and they coalesce into one pattern. Like looking at poles on the sides of railway tracks.
The corridors end, there is a door. You get a few seconds to catch your breath. Panting, you open the door, and then start the run again. It’s another corridor, identical windows on each side. They seem different, but as you look back, you don’t find them any different from the previous ones. Soon the corridors also coalesce and become different stations on the path of your train. Different names, different people getting in and getting out. But they all look and feel the same. That same chai shop, that book shop, the one selling samosas.
I feel someone chasing me. He wasn’t there earlier. Just someone who turned up a few corridors back. I don’t know who he is, but I know I don’t want to stop and find out. I know I don’t want to meet him. I run, but not faster, as I can neither increase nor decrease my pace.
Am at the end of a corridor now. A double door exit looms ahead. The doors are bigger, and look thicker. Darker, as if made of rosewood. There are golden carvings, ivy descending from the top, midget Banyan trees on both of them, reflecting off each other as if a mirror is between the two.
I catch hold of the handle-knob, twist it and push open the right door. It’s another corridor. The chaser feels closer now. I know he’ll gain on me, it’s imminent. But for know, I’ll continue to run. I’ll run because that’s all I know, cos that’s all am programmed to do.
Ugh! Another year! Well have a good one while at it!