The moment I wake up

The moment I wake up after a night sleep…it starts my day …mostly the sun is never there…but there’s a mild light in my room. My house is adjacent to highway …very rarely there’s silence…still I chant sanskrit mantra Karagre Vasati Laxmi which been taught to me since I learnt to speak….since when I was born I had the habit of sleeping at 6pm and getting up at 5am or 6am so.

The first thing I do when I get up from is wash my face with water and drink a little cold water . Standing in the window and enjoying the fresh morning breeze on my face is one of my favourite things. The sounds of vehicles passing by never stops …very rarely chirping of a sparrow is heard…when the highway is silent. The city is still to wake up.

The next thing that comes to my mind is performing a little bit of yoga for 10-15 min with mild classical music. I get tempted to have coffee or tea and yes I prepare coffee or tea myself. Mom saves a cup of yesterday’s milk for that. I come walking to window enjoying the fresh morning breeze sipping tea or coffee.

My mother and I have spotted some flower trees in my neighbourhood and I like to visit these trees for flowers …mostly what I collect is yellow or red hibiscus …jasmine and roses. But my mother compels me to have a bath if I go to collect flowers for morning prayer. After collecting flowers the task assigned to me to bring milk bag..the grocer just smiles a bit looking at me and without saying a word and gives me the milk bag of one litre.

I either jog on the huge gliding centre in front of my house building or I do cycling. I love to see twilight sky with reddish blue shades inhaling the fresh morning air. By the time I reach home morning breakfast is ready for me. Graduation engineering exams are just over. Atlast a little break from studies after 22 years. Got selected in campus interview too but joining is in the month of February. Till then a little break..mother feels I should concentrate a little bit on cooking and I religiously help her. It will take a bit of time to enter the new phase of my life. Again there’s going to new world and new people in it. I feel I should try for Gate exam too. I may continue with my post graduation too..but it will be as per things that are going to favour me.

How’s your morning don’t forget to mention

The path I walk 

Some of my favourite things
It  was in a dense, dense forest …small amber light told about the dawn of a new day the hamlet near the river was awakened to the chirping of birds and the trees nodding in the gentle wind. 

Silver bells was outside her small hut her eyelids blinking hastily as she drank the new day’s nectar looking at the sky.

 She ran through the open meadow down the stream. As she reached the stream she saw the small birds – sparrows and magpie and some white doves playing and flying.

 The stream of water was singing a delicate melody, which was captivating. She sat on the bank and cupped her hands in the flowing cool waters. 

As she looked in the clear aqua she saw her shimmering reflection changing ever moment.

She accepted change and expected and lived with it. 

Silver bells had to run home leaving the birds and the stream where it belonged. As she went along the day she performed her meditative and reflections grew inside her changing her outside. 

The great winds receded and calm came from the heavens above. 

The songs of rivers and the seas were on her lips as she chanted and charted her course of her day. The deep resonating sounds of temple bells filled her mind giving her a meditative calm. 

The color blue of the sky and purple dance on her skirts and she turns to go to the masters abode for her daily lessons in pottery. 

As she reaches the place she finds some flowers growing in the wild she gathers a bunch to take back home. 

There are red Champa, some jasmines …fragrant. She longs for the blue lotus which reminds her of the Lord Nilotpala(Lord Krishna)…..and the flute… 

She feels she is like a flute where the life breathes music inside her soul. 

The sacredness of being a flute is what she searches. 

She is at the master’s place and the lessons begin as she concentrates on the clay she becomes the clay and the pot takes shape ….she discovers that the emptiness holds whatever she wants….and not the pot itself…she knows she understands, she accepts that we are just a tool…. 

The afternoon she walks back towards home where mother is waiting for her with a smile. Both of connect like two musical notes in a symphony. They define each other.

The hot food is almost ready. She makes her mother comfortable as she serves her with Bajra roti (Millet grain bread)and Methi sabzi (Cooked fenugreek) and some chanch (butter milk) and green chutney. 

In the evening the lights come on the sky as stars shine and twinkle. The small radio plays some old songs … 

Sham Hui Chad Aayi Rey Badariya …

The evening whispers something to the night as it comes with black veil.

She curls with a book on her warm bed and reads poems by Emily Dickinson 

MY cocoon tightens, colors tease,

I ‘m feeling for the air;

A dim capacity for wings

Degrades the dress I wear.

A power of butterfly must be 

The aptitude to fly,

Meadows of majesty concedes

And easy sweeps of sky.

So I must baffle at the hint

And cipher at the sign,

And make much blunder,

if at last I take the clew divine. 

She feels her other book on ‘Karna’ the first Pandav 

She will go back to her daughter the next morning. Those tiny eyes and hands hold her eyes as she grasps the moment and lives a lifetime in each. 

She takes her diary and writes 

Live one day at a time….