joy

Cute and cuddly, dumb and stupid

They clean their face with their paws which are moist from their saliva. They burrow through the sawdust endlessly which could have been Jules Verne’s inspiration to his novels that all went beneath. But with every second you find delight in them, there is another hour that you have to clean up their remnants, refill their silver platters of food and water, and put up with their stench in the house (and can you imagine that the horrible irritating odor is used to attract their mate?)

No, I’m not against keeping hamsters. Actually, I was once a victim to taking care of them. Anyway, when I think about hamsters, they are always caged and running on the wheel. Let me emphasize, running on the WHEEL, in circles, IN SITU. That is the stupidest thing any creature on in this universe with a brain can possibly do. It’s psychologically damaging. It’s basically working, and pumping and slogging and NOT progressing. The only thing that furry chunk of meat, muscle, skin and bones possibly achieved is getting itself dizzy.

That’s how I feel running on the tread mill in the gym. But at ten p.m., in the still, silent and almost in the dead of the night, there’s no where else to go.

Actually, I don’t know why I should be slogging there. Burning rubber both on the bottom of my shoes and that thing my shoe comes in contact with (the one that moves?) is a waste of time. Especially in the night! But of course I’m not complaining about the burnt calories (*smile that stretches from ear to ear). You see, there this comforting sting associated with the night(and i guess i'm not doing the night justice by using that time to burn calories). It’s just pleasant, cool, and it makes me think about stuff. And somehow or rather I do get a little nostalgic. I think about friends, experiences, people and it always leads to thoughts about the future. But the night also has this other side to it. The mysterious, cold and cruel side of it. Just like a doctor Jekyll and mr hyde. This other side is one that makes one feel like squeezing out every tear available in their ducts. Those nights just spells loneliness and pain. Emotion evoking, some people say.

Be the night a vengeful one, all littered with tears and hatred, or be it one where one cuddles up with the pillow, under the warmth and comforts of the quilt, it will always be followed by another morning. Another day, another sunrise, another day of glimmering hope. But this day will also be followed by a night. And the next day on its tail.

So you see, it’s all just in circles. Like the hamster in its wheel and the treadmill that leads you round and round and round. What fools we all are.