Writing is like T20 batting. If you block, you might as well retire to the pavilion! -- Pete Langman
Expat in Germany

Monday, September 11, 2017

The Path not Taken

Summer in Europe has come to an end. This is the last time one (by one, it is implied that it is an Indian who is used to temperatures as hot as Arnab Goswami's temper) could take a long bike ride in the nice evening weather in Germany. Cycling through a forest is great. It provides one with fresh air, good exercise, great scenery and improves reflexes, since one has to be quite agile, lest a boar should run full on to the fahrad. In short, biking through the forest in the south-western region of Germany is fun and the end of August is the best time to undertake this journey.

Good cycle, good headlights, good taillights. Enthusiastic driver. Time to go home. Enter the forest. Then two roads diverged into the green wood and the driver cannot travel both.
She must choose and choose wisely. It is time to go home, but an enthusiastic driver. What to do.
She looked at the one road and looked as far as she could.
Far she could see, to where it bent in the undergrowth.
But nay, she is the enthusiastic biker and she took the other path, just as fair,
because it was grassy and wanted wear.

Little did she know that Robert Frost had mentioned an Autumn climate, rather than the sweet summer. She now has a lot to face in the dense canopy of the forest which is so thick that it came to be called the 'Blackforest.' She has boldly chosen one and has to go ahead. Cycle she does, coolly at first and quickens her pace in a moment. The only source of light is that tiny diode on the front of her bike and the occasional firefly that kept hitting her face. The canopy felt like the vast sky, just without the bright moon and the twinkling stars which were blanketed. Few minutes into the ride, came they. No one who ever traversed the path near the forest had gone without tasting one of them. The eyes were not spared either. Squinting her eyes, she wanted to reach the end as fast as possible. But the forest never seemed to end. The little diode was still the only source of light. She rode at maximum power since she got well nourished after swallowing a million of those insects.

And then came the end of the road. She hated road endings but not today. She cherished it and felt happy that the forest ended, only to enter the farmland which was infested with enough insects to fill a boeing cargo! But back came the moon light under which she looked at her body, covered with insects like in the movie, Mummy.

She shall be telling this with a sigh
that she took the road less traveled by
the reason for which she now knows why