Freedom



When I think back about how I felt hunched over my handlebars pedaling north along Monterey Highway towards San Jose, I always think of Curt Smith cruising through California in his convertible MG in this video for the Tears for Fears classic "Everybody Wants to Rule the World."

Freedom.

I was riding my racing bike north from Morgan Hill, where my dad lived, up to my old stomping grounds, about a 50 mile ride round trip. I had slipped away cleanly from New York, having left my goodbye note to Guru on the dresser in my old room in Queens.

Perhaps at that very moment back in New York, Ketan or someone else had discovered the note in my abandoned room after I had failed to show up to work that morning. That was all behind me, though. God, to be free! I'd always felt free on my bike, but being away from the New York winter, the New York crime, the self-imposed discipline of the Center -- I'd never felt so free.

As I rode through South San Jose, I passed my old high school, David Moretti's house, the old neighborhood, and out past Charlie's house on my way to Los Gatos. To my surprise, Charlie and his brother Dave were in their garage. Considering my poor treatment of Charlie years earlier when he had left the Center, I felt rather sheepish saying hello. I stopped, nevertheless, and they were both very gracious. Class acts, both of them.

I apologized for my previous behavior, told them that I had just moved back, and we promised to touch base soon. With that, I turned around and completed my ride back down south to Morgan Hill. When I got back to the house, there was a message for me to call Ashrita.

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