From
the envelope of a bygone night, slipped a lettercovered with bits and parts of
humid clouds; written in words of a uniquelanguage called dawn. Raising the
curtain and gently pushing the sliding windowto its right side; I stood near
the window. I was breathing in, yet anothermorning. I went back to the letter,
which guided me to follow my heart.
Before
I could begin, my heart had already proceeded towardsthe terrains; I might not
have endeavoured to tread into. Here I was in an otherwisedifferent morning;
starting from zero, eager to discover yet another Mondaymorning. Today instead
of heading towards the local playground, I chose to walkacross the road that
encircles our colony. At 5.30 AM, when doors remainedlocked from within and
neighbours were busy dreaming; I had started walking,seeking freedom. But I
still failed to match steps with my mighty mom, whooutdoes me any day,
anywhere, any time. I really don’t see it as competition,but definitely is a
benchmark to follow her (like I’ve done all these years).
The
skies wore a new look. A cross between crimson red, paleblue and a distinct
grey; the skies seemed to be narrating a story, straightout of Christopher
Nolan’s cinematic art diary. I must confess, I couldn’t havemissed mentioning
one of my favourite director’s name. As I walked beneath thesky, fixing my eyes
on the road that I was walking on; I realized that theGulmohar trees were
shedding less floral weight than they were busy doing, afew days back. If last
evening’s discussion is to be believed, Mom was of theopinion that they have
bloomed well and now that they have started shedding alltheir floral beauty;
monsoons might be just round the corner.
Though
highly hydrated, my throat still succumbed toexcessive dryness; maybe because
of excessive sweating. To be honest, I wassweating the whole of last night. One
ceiling fan failed to deliver the luxury;we anticipated. The absence of the
table fan, which acts as a bonus option…wassomehow left unattended in the
kitchen. There was no way, I could have imaginedless about what lay ahead. I
must have walked a few extra miles and my jersey resembleda just-drenched
napkin. I had to avoid jogging today, due to two reasons – 1) Iwas lazy, 2) I
was lazy to jog. Finding no reason to cite, I continued walking.
The
calm of the morning remained undisturbed till a bunch ofstray dogs took it upon
themselves to infuse barks, and derailed the sereneenvirons. I found a new
bunch of these four legged beasts, chasing the oldbunch out of their
preoccupied/conquered areas. That means from tomorrow, thecar tyres will bathe
in fresh stock of liquid spray (with sufficient dose ofdog odour in it). These
dogs have been bathing the tyres of my car, ever since itwas driven home.
Having
arranged my attire, the book I wished to read duringmy journey and the laptop
(I never wish to carry back home from office); I wasa bit less worried about
going back home early. But I succumbed to thirst and exhaustion.Why had the
climate turned so nasty? I think the presence of some invisible andsome visible
clouds, made it worse than we had not expected it to be.
As
I continued walking, I continued reading through theletter. It seemed to prompt
me about my ever inflating waistline. I did try toapologize to it. But somehow
the first stringent demand, it placed was to goback to my old pair of skipping
rope and continue jumping over it; tillmonsoons announced its moist arrival.
I
am sure there will be another letter that will get posted tomorrowmorning. But
will there be a little greener grass on the playground? Will therebe a little
bit of happy twilight tomorrow?
And
where is the letter? Well that was just an imagination,which inspired me to
wake up and begin with yet another Monday morning!
-vociferous
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