As Morning Unfurls
It’s 6 am and the faint monsoon sunlight peeps through the curtains. It has been raining continuously for the past two days. Perversely, the rain starts with a slow drizzle on Friday morning, gradually working up to a torrential downpour by Saturday. And then on Sunday, it continues to pour. The wettest day of the week. Perhaps I should be happy that it rains only on the weekend. After all, that’s the time when people are home and safe. They don’t have to battle potholed roads or look out for open manholes waiting to devour them up.
But now it is Monday and the clouds have poured out all their rain. I wake up to the start of another week on a grey Monday morning.
Outside my window, I hear the horns honk. The harsh sounds pierce the morning calm. I look outside irritated. If I could, I would throw a blanket over them to cover the noise. Or better still, rotten eggs and over-ripe tomatoes on the windscreens of the irate drivers, who honk their impatience at the school buses blocking the road. Ironically, these huge, yellow monsters that are the solution to smoother traffic create havoc at the start of school and when school is out. Within minutes, cars stretch down the road to Colaba, the Southernmost tip of this narrow island city.
Outside my window parrots screech during their daily fly past while harrowed mothers coax their reluctant children to hurry up and cross the road before the light turns green. The little things with backs bent with weighted bags would rather catch up with friends met along the way than rush to class.
At the zebra crossing glistening with the morning drizzle, I spot a policeman outside my window. He sucks in his stomach straining at the buttons and holds his breath. He waves the children on impatiently, longing to blow his whistle and let the traffic flow.
Outside my window I see the dog walker waiting patiently for his gaggle of dogs to stop sniffing at the electric junction box. Soon each dog will lift his hind leg and with practiced ease, slowly release his visiting card that melts with the puddle on the pavement.
On the road divider, I see a banana seller precariously balancing his wares as he waits for the opportune moment to dash across the road.
Outside my window, the day slowly unfurls. My coffee awaits.
Though July has been a wet month, as far as my blog goes it has been pretty dry. For some strange reason, I just felt too blah to write or read. A short blog hop #The ZombieBlogHop organised by my favourite people shook me out of this inertia but after the brief spurt, I went back into semi hibernation.
Once again it is a blog hop, this time, #WordsMatter blog hop, that has spurred me on.
There are 47 of us on this Blog Hop and it will be spread over 3 days – 2, 3, 4 August. Do follow the #WordsMatter Blog Hop and prepare to be surprised!