Myth of Sisyphus

He pushed himself out of the bed. It is 5am. Winter mornings are cold and sometimes, as it is today, there is a slight breeze making it colder.But he always makes it a point to get up at that time since his childhood days. It gives him some time to sit down and reflect on the day that he is going to meet. the city always goes to bed late. And it is afraid to reflect when it is awake. It tries to drain that shrill inner voice with the cacophony of sound. Only some how it has left the morning untouched to some extent. He remembers he is pushing the burden of life through many ups and downs. Like the Sisyphus he has seen him carrying his life to the pinnacle many times only to see it slip away to the bottom again, and again he has pushed it up and again it has slipped...Initially he was excited, he was mad at himself alternately. Now he is puzzled. He does not know if he is carrying the life through these ups and downs or the life is carrying him through these. He is dragging the weight or the weight is dragging him. At times the meaninglessness of it all strikes him as brazen and he ponders if it is worthwhile. But then he realises that there is no escape. The action keeps him active and fills his time with occupation. If he does not keep at it the weight will run over him and crush him underneath. There is no escape.A cold sweat comes over his body even in the cold ambiance. He feels very warm and takes out the covering. There is a wrench in his stomach and things start to churn in it. He felt like throwing up and ran to the wash basin. From the corner of his eyes he sensed his shadow pulling him towards the basin or is it the Sisyphus!