I love mornings. Especially cold, winter ones. Holiday or not, I feel a precious day’s been wasted if I haven’t woken up early enough.
I love staring out the window, at a tree, listening to the chirping of birds as I wake up. I find it very reassuring in some way. It briefly fills me with calm, a bit of happiness even. For a while, albeit short, it frees my mind off the vicious grip of things that occupy it during the day and makes me think of the much bigger, better picture, one not about me and myself.
I love the anticipation of hot tea and a good breakfast that arises as I brush my teeth. The warmth my jacket gives to my shivering torso and chattering teeth after a splash of biting cold basin water. The arrival of the daily newspaper.
I love smiling away to myself at the breakfast table, as I imagine her saying ‘Hi’ to me on entering class, or myself in a dialogue with her during the day, possibly in between two lectures (or on gmail in the evening, perhaps?), or as I imagine someone compliment me on some 'heroic' task I did the previous evening, and blaming that smile on some sitcom joke I heard last night, to those around me who ask the reason for it.
I love walking to class in the morning. There’s just the right amount of sunlight. Pleasantly warm. Not unbearable, like afternoons. Not with the pensive, sad vibe like the setting sun of the evening.
I love listening to music as I walk to class. Energetic songs, often on repeat, especially those with harmonies. I find it very satisfying when I’m able to discern them and sing. My hair stand on end as I listen to a soul ripping solo or harmonized vocals. It warms me up a bit in the cold.
Afternoons are lazy. Meant to take a nap in. Or attend enforced labs, if you’re in college.
Evenings lack the charm of anticipation. There are countless problems in life. Deadline, the next day. One evening to solve them all.
Mornings are special.
Vishwa.
