I am not a morning person
But then again I am barely even a person,
But since I am not a morning person
And when I am forced to leave my warm smothered bed
I cringe and cry
Not wanting to rise.
I shed off all my dreams
When suddenly, my alarm screams
And as soon as my feet touch the floor,
My mother rushes in, thrashing the door.
“We have guests at our place, and I need milk!”
“So?” I want to show some fury.
I do not say a word
Instead rush to the kitchen
To get my morning drug.
“Please, you can have coffee once you come back,
I need milk and some bread before that.”
I give her a look
Morning without a coffee
Is barely morning at all
And since I am not a morning person
It makes me furious after all.
In a deep blue pair of pajamas
And a plane tank top
A lost rough bun, with loose strands on my careless face
I grab the keys to my vehicle
And leave, muttering under my breath
“Who goes to someone’s place at this hour?”
I am barely awake
What with an early morning
And no coffee-
And so I am in a hurry
More of a hurry for a cup of coffee
Than of furnishing the breakfast for our guests.
“Yeah, go on judge me” I say out aloud
To no one in particular.
And since its early morning
Not many shops have even opened
The supermarket is still closed too,
And I roam about in my effort to find some place
That will provide me with the needed!
“Why can’t they just drink a coffee and be done with it instead?”
I could have made all kinds,
But our guests had to have breakfast
And we had to finish all our bread the previous day.
And so I drive around in a chirpy and yet quite morning
Warm and yet a cool morning.
I remember suddenly, the bakery!
And I rush there.
There is a small grocery store beside it too
Finally! Both of them have started their day
And very soon I have the needed
A carton of milk,
And a packet of bread,
And I am driving home.
I am not the best of drivers
Least when it comes to cars,
But I drive my Honda Dio pretty well.
Over the decade of driving two wheelers
I have had the knack of balancing and rushing
Without being a sneaker.
And so at the speed of 30-40 on a empty lane
I am driving and enjoying the beautiful morning arcane.
When finally my stubbornness is over the fact
That I had to wake up and rush about for others
It starts drizzling,
And then pouring
And then consistently raining!
Now, as usual I am again grumpy
Just when I was adjusting
All fell again crumbling.
What choice do I have
Either I get late for the entire day
Or I get drenched
And finally start my day!
I chose the latter.
Now, rains are not my favorite part
“What did I say?”
“I don’t like rains?”
“Are you mad?”
Now, don’t get me wrong
Rains are needed
But I am more of a reality person
And rains always have been to me burden.
What with the puddles and the potholes
The overflowing murky water
And the atmosphere, a constant rotter.
But since I am doing everything against my own will
I keep driving
I keep drenching
And begin somehow, to enjoy
The morning chill.
Who cares- about how I look
I am probably just a black and white sketchbook.
It is early in the morning
And there is no one around
For the days aborning.
And so I let myself soak,
And the cool breeze, float.
The rains have prevented
The one or two early risers
Leaving the day isolated and scented
With only one or two miners
I am driving back home,
All too careful, not to skid
When an Enfield comes and skits inches away from me.
The me, that always finds mistakes in myself
Cringes and slows down
Only to realize that the gawky man has turned around.
I am still away from home
And the street is empty-
I drive away.
He drives away!
A little while later
I notice the Royal Enfield again
And I want to take off
Just like a rocket plain.
I have a Honda Dio
He has a Royal Enfield.
I stick to the extreme left,
Giving him the entire road,
Its raining and I don’t want to cause some explode.
And yet he drives centimeters away from me
And my heart thumps as if
He was on the verge of thrashing me.
He slows down fairly just a little ahead of me
And then I slow down too
Thinking how to flee.
I keep forgetting I am drenched,
My tank top stuck to me,
And my pajamas are defining my legs, carefree.
He is not bothered by my driving skills
But he is amazed by a woman’s drenched frills.
He finds me enticing
And he has nothing better to do
On a morning that is so surprising.
The clouds have grown darker
The rains heavier
And I can barely see the road’s departure,
But I have to find an exit now!
And I have to get home- NOW!!
And so with sheer force
I speed my vehicle
Zigzagging against the course
Noticing his face, unbelievable.
Oh, what a psychopath
He whistles at my expertise
But diverts his path
And I breathe, a sigh of relief.
And then I am no mood of fury,
Or any agony,
Not for the fact that I had an early morning,
Not for the uninvited guests
And not for the Royal Enfield.
It was just as normal, just as mundane-
Nothing was new
Not the woman’s bane.
It was just mandatory
Because if you are a woman
Sexuality was your only glory.
I sped home,
Indeed like a rocket plane
And then somehow my deep blue pants
Had turned even a deeper shade.
But I didn’t care
For nothing was new
And so I went to the kitchen
And poured the coffee, due.