Spice of life | Charming tale of whizzed mornings in fast forward - Hindustan Times
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Spice of life | Charming tale of whizzed mornings in fast forward

ByReema Bansal
Feb 20, 2024 09:31 PM IST

Mornings, however scurried they might get, bring freshness; and they bring hope, and a new energy. They bring sun. They bring dew drops. And they bring some lovely numbers on FM radio.

I’ve always found the morning rush fascinating. Not the road-rush, but, the household haste. From socks disappearing at the last moment to gulping down of the mandatory glass of milk as children, from deciding the day’s attire to tying the tie knot to making quick 15 seconds for the family hug before everyone is off to their routines. It’s always been a charming tale for me.

However much I might plan to have a planned and regular morning routine, the household help getting late (or absent) due to fog/rain remain unpredictable happenings. (HT Photo)
However much I might plan to have a planned and regular morning routine, the household help getting late (or absent) due to fog/rain remain unpredictable happenings. (HT Photo)

Further, most of the mornings are exactly darted and hurried mornings. However much one might have tried, the quick presumed five-minute nap post alarm-ring remains bound to get prolonged. I was once given a description of stages of waking up by my sister-in-law. Stage one: Eyes shoot open at an unearthly morning hour and you wonder about the reason behind the awakening being any divine intervention/message. In any case, one shuts them again and pulls the quilt up after having a peek at the wall-clock in the hardly-lit room, and smiling satisfactorily for the next two-or-so heavenly hours. Stage two: The alarm goes off. Stage three: The alarm gets snoozed, while a quick mental note is made to wake up within the next five minutes. Stage four: Half an hour (or more) has lapsed before one evades slumber again. Stage five: Brief decision-making to never do it again, before entering the fast-forward mode.

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However much I might plan to have a planned and regular morning routine, the household help getting late (or absent) due to fog/rain remain unpredictable happenings.

Add another dimension when one’s kids are on the threshold of teenage. “Mom, I forgot to prepare my science activity, it’s the last day for submission!” kind of declarations make the ground slip from beneath the feet. There’s no time even for admonishment. The mind runs simultaneously in various directions and one’s entire life flashes before the mind’s eye as one mentally searches for quickly do-able science-project ideas. The younger brother of the family is shaken to be awakened and sent off to the nearest stationery (if open at that time) to purchase the required items and one unbelievingly pulls off the practical for the kid – all the time murmuring about the present-day burden put on parents by schools.

Add flat tyres, no fuel in the tank, finished cooking gas in cylinder and electricity cuts leading to no warm water from geyser to the end moment list.

Finally, when one is able to get plopped up in one’s vehicle to head to the workplace, the mind travels faster than the body (whereas both must reach together). I hope I have not forgotten the file with papers. Did I lock the back-gate? Has my younger one missed carrying the water bottle yet again? These are only few of the racing thoughts.

When the attendance is eventually marked at office upon reaching, there is a brief time-space of immense mental-peace when the hustle of the past four-five hours automatically drains itself out and there’s suddenly a renewed lease of life to be productive, to serve, and to make a difference.

All in all; it’s always beautiful. Goes down to the basics of gratitude. At least we have a home, a job/work, family. Mornings, however scurried they might get, bring freshness; and they bring hope, and a new energy. They bring sun. They bring dew drops. And they bring some lovely numbers on FM radio.

The lyrics of a song from the Bollywood movie, Chachi 420, come to the mind: “Daura daura bhaaga bhaaga sa, daura daura bhaaga bhaaga sa, waqt ye sakht hai thorha thorha.” reemaban@gmail.com

The writer is a Jagadhri-based freelance contributor

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