What are you looking at?
'What are you looking at?' 'Am I not allowed to look at whatever I want?' She smiled and he nodded almost imperceptibly. More to himself than to the woman at the back of him, but clearly visible in front of him in the cracked mirror, hanging on the thin wall made of bamboo and seaweed.
She felt weak when leaning towards the doorframe to the bathroom in which he was standing. She couldn't take her eyes from his and realized she had not been able to look into them earlier, despite all the time they had spent together. How long was it now since they met, that crowded afternoon close to something called Green Park. Such an ironic name in the middle of a crowded, messy, stinky Delhi where the fog laid like a lid over the bleach sun. How long had it been? It had been 25 days now since they met the first time. If you can even talk about the meeting when you catch up behind a person and the only thing you see is a pair of perfectly pedalling legs.
Because that is the truth. She hadn't seen him in the crowd of never-ending handshakes the day before the adventure started. To her, they all looked the same and it was hard to even think when her mind was mostly focusing on having enough to eat, planning what to bring and not the least, having enough of sleep before is should all begin. Now, looking back, she remembered she had said hello in the chilly evening when they all had finished the first day, the first 270 kilometers. But there and then it was all about eating, taking care of the bicycle, socializing and trying to go to bed as soon as possible to catch up as much energy as possible for the next crazy day ahead. And the next. And the next... It seemed like an ocean of days ahead, but her knowledge from earlier ultra races was to just take one day at a time, trying not to take a too big bite of it at once, it would only make her feel sick.
The thick fog in the early morning allowed no views what so ever when she left the Pink City behind. The desert winter made her shiver as she tried to wake up her numb legs. Better not to think too much but focus on the fact that it would be only one hour or two before she should stay for the first chai of the day. Nothing tasted as a morning chai after warming up. She didn't know where or with whom she would share that cup this morning. The people she knew briefly was already far behind her and she felt a bit lonely out on the crowded highway heading south through this majestic country.
And then she was behind him. The man with the shaved, glimmering legs clock working in the sun that had pushed the last veils of mist away. She could already feel how the heat was slowly starting to warm up the left side of her body.
Without asking she decided to take the position behind. The man had a friend in front who's back wheel he was almost touching. Without asking for permission she decided to be number three in the row. Maybe they would start to go faster when they noticed her in the back. She wanted to go fast but not at a speed that would make her hit the wall already by lunchtime.
It was her shadow that revealed her to him. The morning sun had her shadow go ahead of her side and he kept throwing a glimpse at it so regularly she almost thought it was some kind of ticks. Or he might be irritable of her sneaking up behind them just like that.
- I can go up in the front bahia, she shouted all of a sudden. The two men nodded and she raised the speed to be in the lead. “Take it easy”, she told herself, perfectly aware of how easy it was to try to shine and show strange, especially towards these two who seemed to be full of energy and purposefulness. After a few kilometers she felt back, one of the men took the lead. From the third to second to first. Third, second, first. How she loved this dance of cycling! These moments when everything feels possible, the road is ahead of you, the distance doesn't matter and you know in your heart that this will continue even tomorrow. And this is all there is.
If she had known how it would all have ended, maybe she should have left him with his friend there and then. Said thank you for some hours of good riding but let it all stopped there. She didn't and he didn't and as the kilometers went on beneath them they suddenly noticed it was only the two of them left. None of them had even noticed the loss of his friend.
After hours which felt like minutes, they shared their first meal together. The dhaba was out in nowhere and in front of it an iron coloured mountain reaching for the clear blue sky. They sat on the braided bed, the cycling shoes thrown on the cement floor and they shared a bottle of coke. The parata gave new energy and he told her about secrets and sorrows he had kept hiding inside for so many years. And despite he looked a bit shy and careful not to talk too much, she felt like she knew him since long time back. Since a time before that none of them could remember with logic but with their subconscious minds.
Afterwards, she would remember it as a homecoming moment. Nothing like a storm or a headless passion, only the feeling of finding what could be the missing part without even knowing you were missing it or exactly what was missing.
But dreams have to give way for reality and reality those days where the fact that most of the road was ahead of them. To keep on pedalling was their only mission and they had to leave the talk of life and sorrow and go back in the saddles for many miles ahead. But as soon you have shared the joy of eating together you can't just leave it as nothing had happened. You have to look for new opportunities, new chances to stop by the road that will give you time to dig deeper into the soul you've just met.
And she soon found out that he didn't like chai the way she did. And she almost stared in fascination at the way he poured out the gravy over the rice and ate it with such a precision and sensuality that she never had seen before. She thought about what the way of eating could tell about a man. If he could enjoy food in this passionate way, how would he enjoy the taste of a woman? This was all forbidden thoughts, she knew it perfectly well but from the way he asked for food and how he filled his thin body with it to find power enough for finishing the day, she already knew the answer but also that she would never be able to tell him so. Because he was forbidden fruit and so was she. Love on the other hand never asks for permission. She was old enough to know it never does.
The days after their first meeting they tried to stay together, tried to find their own dance across flat fields, dusty roads, climbings towards beautiful viewpoints, rolling down the hills in a speed that would have killed them if the slightest detail not had been on their side. And how they didn't care about haunting the death in its heals, playing with it just to enjoy the fullest of life. Nothing stopped them as they behaved like children without any thoughts of tomorrow or even what would show up behind the next curve.
She remembered the laughs, the confusing moment when they chose to turn left instead of continuing straight ahead in a crazy city which name she had forgotten the same second he finished telling it to her. And how she went like crazy downhill towards that city and how she turned her head to look for him as some kind of saviour when the traffic turned up to be too much for her Nordic mind. By the red light, he came up behind her. Many times after that she would return to that special day, that special moment when he took the lead and she knew she could trust him to take her through the chaos with an obvious trust in his experience from a country where everything can show up in front of you in just a glimpse of a second.
When the night came she almost had a break down when they in darkest darkness had to go 20 more kilometers than was planned for. But again he maid her feel strong by showing his weakness in the open. She heard herself telling him how strong they were and how 20 was nothing compared to the 240 they had already put behind that same day. He listens to her and she also listens to her own voice to be able to find the last pieces of strange that might be there within themselves. With the dark night like a blanket upon them, they went on to finish what was left of the distance. The forest around them was like a thick wall of fear but it couldn't frighten them as they stayed together. When the light from the small hotel finally came in front, it was like reaching Nirvana. If Nirvana has got a taste it must be that one of sweet taste when you have done more than you would normally expect.
She sat by the table when he came down the stairs, crossing the restaurant with his hair washed, his legs hidden in some baggy jeans. He didn't give her the slightest look and her heart went down in the basement. This was it, she thought. Everything she had thought of during the day might have been only imaginations of her tired mind, she thought. She finished her meal as quickly as possible, said goodnight to some of the cyclists still awake and hungry for more food. What she didn't know was the fact she didn't have enough of imagination to realize she herself was like a dream to him that he didn't dare to touch. Too afraid it would disappear if he even tried.