I owe it to you, my morning buzz, a sincere ‘thank you’. Not much long ago did I discover how easy laughter came to me, that I too ( et tu brute?) possessed some sense of humour, wow!
You made me re-know how to breathe coz often I had heard Sri Sri jis and Baba Ramdevs that we breathe only 30 percent and lo! I discovered what it meant to breathe one hundred percent. To be honest, I have also fumbled with my breaths (as with my words I often find myself fumbling)when my ’kambakht’ dil would seem to dance to a different beat, the ‘chaal’ in ‘its different masti’ and ‘saanso ki mala’ humming an altogether makhsoos dhun. And I also owe it to you, my divine mornings that something there has been that would always sing in my ears: ‘I believe in angels, something good in everything I see’ though I know when someone sings this song-that sure one would when ‘the dream’ comes true-I would definitely be there from where I no more could hear.
True, of late during my walks across all the four landmarks, I have heard more of silence than ‘yogic’ laughters. Sometimes, I have also wondered what enabled those meaningless tears trickle down when there were no droplets falling from the sky. Infact, so many good things have happened that would ‘hairaan’ me (surprise, amaze, shock, astonish-nothing seems to say what ‘hairaan’ can) e.g. my ankles no more hurt me, my shoes are worn out but I do not feel the need for new shoes any more, I may miss the beat now and then when I go for walk in the morning but I miss my walks every time I am not able to ‘prepare’ myself to respond to the morning buzz with positivity; the lights on the fourth land mark still attract me as much as the lights of University of Christminster would lure Jude; the brightest star seems in more hurry than before to leave the sky but my competitive spirit has not given way.
I know..I know a ‘yug’ is over and that ‘that time is past’ and sach, its ‘aching joys’ are no more (coz those laughters would ache my temples), sachmuch, I cannot paint what then I was but I do realize that time has chiseled me, chastened me, humbled me and to say the least taught me as always it does to all of us that ‘happiness is but an occasional episode.’
Oh! The crust of the road I move on is the same; the air I breathe on my journey back home is as ‘khoobssorat’ as it always has ben; the sky can be seen often changing its texture allowing the clouds sometimes, sometimes plainly looking at me ismiling; Sharon seems almost always prepared to let me go provided I let him get to the main gate to see me off; the ‘dheeth’ me has found its feet again (oh, my God, yet again!!).
And for this and everything I am grateful- sincerely grateful (if the phrase means anything) to you for the first morning buzz. I am yet to rise, yet to awake fully, the fog is still there, the cold is gone yet its ‘sheet ta’ shivers me but I am grateful, for there is ‘abundant recompense’. Thank you, my morning buzz.