The World Is Your Oyster. Own It. Live It.

After many months, Sins woke up sweating, not because he had weird dreams but because it had become hotter than normal in Bengaluru, India, much to his consternation, as if the weather sought to dampen his new found enthusiasm for sobriety and clarity of thought. But, on the contrary, he realized, the approaching summer and the sweat that it bought was a great convener for the clarity of thought that he was seeking. He jolted upright, out of bed, and swigged down half a litre of water from the plastic bottle that contained only that much.

The eerie silence of the early morning greeted him like the calm after a storm, trees rustled slightly in the cool breeze, when he realized his room had become non-ventilated over the course of the night. The sweat had disappeared, drying off from his skin, enveloping him like a protective guardian. He waved at the shop owner, where he normally had breakfast when he woke up late. His arms glistened in the golden rays of the rising sun as he went about diligently arranging all the heavy pans and pots he needed to prepare for the morning breakfast rush hour. He would be eating his bread and peanut butter, packed safely inside his work bag, after working out at the gym. On the way to the bus stop, he imagined piles of assorted sandwiches and mayonnaise and tomato ketchup, waiting for him at his office, as an occasion to welcome Monday.

He was running low on cash reserves, since it was the end of the month, and he needed to get his reimbursements done from the company, which would tide him over for a good week. His expenses weren’t much, most of it was reserved for food, which he liked to be the choicest available, seconded by house rent, which was decent, as compared to the average cost in this city. His thoughts immediately switched to what he needed to accomplish today, as he had thought so last night before going to sleep. He felt very focussed in the mornings, and vowed to wake up earlier each day as compared to the previous day, hence ironing down on a habit that was believed to be crucial to productivity and clarity of thought.

However, what he would have really liked to do now, was waltz along on a tropical beach with a woman on his arms, while they sipped coconut water, before executing headstands and handstands, smiling passionately and guiding each other along the way.

Grinning with delight, he boarded the bus that would drop him outside the gym, a close walking distance from his office. He was greeted by the sight of the security guard outside, who was dozing his heart out. Chuckling, he climbed up the stairs three at a time an dashed into the dressing room to find it empty. Feeling as if, he alone was up at this hour while the rest of the world slept, he hit the weights with a vengeance, purging his body of all intoxicants, gushing sweat, that dripped onto the floor with abandon, while pumping Slayer into his ears. The adrenaline rush was so great that he grabbed the hammer kept in one corner of the main hall, and began smashing the truck tire with it, with all his force, imagining it to be an evil person who deserved it.

Totally spent, he decided to wind up, sitting still for two minutes, feeling all the neurons inside his brains fire against each other as if they were the neurons in the left side of his brain were waging a full scale riot against the neurons present on the right, and Sins was bearing the full brunt of it. The shower head stared at him ominously, as if awaiting his command to release him from the mundane vagaries of the earth, and take him down to an abyss consisting of an endless field of sunflowers with no sorrow, only joy and bliss.

He emerged from the shower, clad in a plain white towel, feeling as if he belonged, belonged truly to the consciousness that radiated inside him, throbbing his heart from within, pumping blood in every direction, enabling his brain to sense everything in their minutiae. He wished this feeling would be ever-present and constant, rising in intensity till his head burst with all sorts of creative thoughts and ideas, culminating in a situation when he would be able to teleport and vanish at will, and fly in the sky like Superman.

Oh, he felt so high, that he could do anything.

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