What is it about the morning that makes it so special?
A time of day when all is still. A quiet peace that envelops the city. A calm before the storm.
I wake up to the screeching of the kite outside my window, the chirping of birds on trees below and the squawking of parrots that fly past my balcony.
Isn’t that a lovely way to welcome the world , sipping a cup of tea , dunking some buttered toast in it and watching the occasional car whiz past? Occasionally, I see an ancient school bus go rumbling up the hill?
A solitary bread and andawallah zooms past on his cycle, deftly avoiding the newspaper boys and milkmen making late deliveries.
Downstairs in my compound car cleaners wash the dust off fancy cars and make small talk with the watchmen who were up all night .
The early morning crispness with slow sun rising, parts the darkness like the curtains in my room.
Soon the street will be dotted with early morning walkers, overfed pampered dogs and fitness buffs in shorts . As daylight breaks, they will be joined by groups of children waiting for the bus.
In the meanwhile I savour the silence of the Universe . That special time when I reach within myself to find a calm to help me steer the noisy tumultuous day that stretches ahead.
Today I sit in silence catching up with reading blogs . The bell peels in the convent across the road and a I hear the drip and drizzle of the kitchen tap while someone makes a cup of tea.
And then my household will awaken, slowly to the morning’s tasks. With blankets thrown and pillows plumped they will wipe the sleep from their eyes while beds are made. Then finally, everyone will be wide awake and seize yet another day.