A Good Morning

I woke up today to raindrops pattering on my window, an experience I hadn’t had since last June. Plastering a smile on my lips, I got up ready to get ready for work. And even as I brushed my teeth, the rain waned into a drizzle, and the drizzle then became an occasional droplet. Then, silence — all in a span of five minutes.

Finishing my daily chores, I peeked through the window again. An early bird chirped from its nestled castle in a tree nearby, the sole creature bold enough to break the silence. Sipping my cup of tea, I stared at my cup of tea: the sky lightened and the dark clouds of last night whitened.

I took a deep breath for it felt like a good day.

I left home and locked the door behind me, hoping for a productive day at work. And as I stepped out of the house, the sun peeked out from the horizon, braving the vagaries of the early morning’s slight storm, and sending a shot of warmth through me.

I flashed a smile at the soldier and headed out the street. A good day to take a walk.

On my way, I saw the age-old banyan tree swaying like a wise old woman nodding her white head at me, while a pale orange leaf disengaged itself from its kin to fall onto my path. And along with it, I got the scent of dug up earth and the sight of earthworms wiggling their way back into the soothing heat of the soil.

To cap my walk, came a gentle breeze blowing my already-messy hair into a disarray, and bringing in its wake, a single drop of rain.

Looking up, I saw the white clouds darkening again and the sun retreating. I could feel the breeze getting colder and damper. As that single droplet expanded into a mild drizzle, I stepped up my pace — I had just a few more feet to go.

The drizzle, however, had coated my glasses while I rushed into the shelter of my office. Walking into the towering glass structure, behind me, I heard the whizzing wind gushing through the gap in the door.

Worrying about the clothes I had put to dry on the terrace, I took the elevator up to the 12th floor, coming to a halt by the window. I looked down at the street. The roads were wet, but the drizzle had moved on. The wind had died down, and the sun seemed ready to show her face again.

Shaking my head, I turned around with my arms outstretched announcing to the floor at large, “Monsoon’s here, people.” Lucky for me, the place was deserted. I am the early bird at work.

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