Saturday, September 26, 2009

Morning Mantras!!!

S ……. S is the shape in which I sleep…….With my head rested on my hands and my legs folded as close as plausible to my stomach I relish the time I sleep. Albeit I don’t relish while I do it. Nobody can I suppose. The place I sleep is so close to the outer environment that I love the morning minutes. Some of which I observed.

Disturbed by the effects of the lowering temperature the unconscious part of my brain began to grope certain imperative morning ragas. I was in the process of figuring out that I was asleep. The process of the sun rays eating up the beauty of the black night was in a nascent stage. Ironically it was becoming colder with the rays reacting with the moisture content in the air. And it was the time when my eardrums opened up to some beautiful sounds. The sounds of lil birds chirping and the long horns of a single parrot (“Early bird catches the worm” was sure right) ,the sounds of a distant engine roaring, the sounds of the milk man peddling his cycle, the sounds of puppies cuddling each other, the sounds of dedicated house wives sprinkling water over the ground, the sounds of dried leaves being caught and pushed by the sweeper’s broom, the sounds of morning mantras and many more pleasant sounds .

I was trying to bring a perfect S not able to withstand the cold weather when suddenly a big sheet of cloth was perfectly laid on me. Thanks to my mom I suppose. With a lil rise of the temperature inside my fabric house I began to get to sleep again with a smile on my face. All of a sudden there was this outburst of a soprano. There was this woman shouting at my mom supposedly . I was vaguely trying to understand her problem . It then seemed like she wanted me to wake up and get out. Flabbergasted by the incident I woke up to blast at the lady when a series of events took place.

1. I woke up and saw a lady staring at me with a tricycle full of tender coconuts.

2. My mom was standing beside me.

3. There was this black carpet of tar in front of me with vehicles passing by.

4. There was this torn sheet of cloth in my hand.

After comprehending the situation I smiled at the lady and scratched my head in disappointment and walked away from the place.

The lady shouted at me because it was her regular place for selling the tenders and I was sleeping overtime.

The platform is home for n number of people in India. They run the risk of being run over by stupid drunk bunch of youth or an actor with a stupendous car. They are the face of the homeless , they are the face of an overly populated country , they are the face of the needy , they are the face of the NEW INDIA .

Note: A post of the immature times of my life!!!

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