RUN.

To the person who told me about ‘Forrest Gump’. Thank you so much. 

Soon enough, I was running from my ghosts. Running from the strange trails that I left behind around the city, when I walked through the endless crowded streets with the smell of hot local food arising from each and every corner; embracing me, making me feel home. They say home is where the heart is, but do we ever know where our heart is? Some people say the heart is like a restless monkey, jumping from one tiny desire to other. Then our homes must also be amongst one of those branches now. 

Tonight, I won’t sweat. I am wearing my running shoes and my poker face as I run away from my ghosts. No fear can haunt me, for I am running towards my fear, for my fears have always taken me up and put me down; so that I can build myself again from scratch like a chef. Tonight, I am running through the endless roads, to find that fear that made me do things that I always longed to. Oh fear, find me. Guide me through your clueless path so that the numerous reflections you hit me with will remind me what I am capable of, what I am built of and what I can dream of. 

The strange trails are everywhere. Near the museums, near the bus stands. How did I leave them there? I don’t know. But those strange trails remind me that I love them as much as I love anything about the city, and that is everything. 

As I run, I am not longing for the canopus and the sirius in the sky, I am not looking for the sun to set on me or the star to shine for me. I am looking for the yellow blinking signals in traffic islands. A ‘Go’ signal from everything, and anything around me. It was ‘Run Forrest Run!’ Now all I can hear is ‘Run FS Run!’ And here I am running, for my sake; and my sake, only. Because one thing I’ve learnt from Forrest is that you don’t bleed only when you die; you bleed when you’re born too.