morning madness

If you need to pick a song to hate,put it on as your alarm tone,guaranteed hatred.

Its the period post the alarm ,and I'm  focusing on the population that swings out and plants their feet straight to the ground and grinds them in,stuck in their resentment of being slung into action and heads meekly hung,bowing acquiescently to gravitational forces beneath, because this rude shock definitely cannot be from the department above.

Mumbling all about departmental politics and brushing hair that have fashionably been flung about at night,in throws of hurried passion,or just general squishing around as the head turns in and around looking to align itself to the rest of the appendages in that perfect illusory repose.

Unglueing the soles from the bedside, that beckons siren like,the trek to the bathroom is made in silence,or sometimes if our paths cross other time battled compatriots, we mumble in greeting,each steering a path to readiness, by time perfected rhythms in disgruntled silence.

A monotonous trek,navigated by vacuous eyes that stare uninspired into the day ahead,its like our spark plug became faulty at some point and we disjointedly continue because of lack of inspiration.

As a child you don't lack the fantasy to improve on the day and even though it begins at unearthly hours,you can see kids go from dreamily drooping on each other in school buses,to jumping out all legs and arms to greet their friends.

This Creativity, enthusiasm and energy all get lost along the winding path of time.

Long, long, time ago When I was'nt mistress of my wake up calls and my life ruled by seven to nine periodically bound classes each day,I remember clutching onto my quilt for just those extra five minutes,turning away from those insistent nudging,waking hands and then curling up and snuggling deeper into the softness that mostly smelt ,by that time in the morning of naphthalene and me.In those five extra begged minutes, I almost always packed in dreams of myself brushing and having already bathed. My amazement was truly genuine every morning to find on awaking that,the case was not that,and I was in fact five precious minutes behind schedule.I still Popped up and imagined myself at Malory towers.

But when we stand a few years down the timed path,What gets us out of the haze of the dreamy maze??What makes you ready to face the frontiers of land beyond bed??

For some it’s the sip of coffee,for some it’s the first printed line of the paper as it crystallizes clearly after fumbled efforts with the glasses,for some it’s the kick of their spouse,for some hot milk kept lovingly by a maternal hand,that guaranteed, churns the stomach muscles to expulsion and welcomes the consciousness into being.

For me it’s the feeling of pressing back into my pillow,and sniffing it from a different groove,burrowing my toes into the mattress,and stretching my self to face up again,as I fight a losing battle trying to remember my dreams ,because the speed with which they dance back into the oblivion of darkness, leaving me grasping at wispy strands, is confusing. Its either playing catch with my dreams or I tune my whole, to the strains of music that ensconce me into a world of its own. The rhythm beating down the sleep into submitting to the freshness of a spanking new day.

It’s the days that I get to greet like this and not like an electrocuted, confused sheep counting, time rationed shepherd, that I smile. Which is the best ‘good morning’ greeting I could give myself.(I still do not achieve enough nirvana to not hate my wake up tune though!!!)

I don’t know how strongly you subscribe to the Indian’s need a kick-start theory, or how religious you are about the concept but try it once, cheat your dream space by reducing the screenplay, and set an alarm for five minutes earlier.

Don’t even open your eyes just try and squish your mattress and curl your fist in the comforter as you breathe in deep , don’t try and compete with my celebrated dream catcher status, dance to your own tune and just think a happy thought. And it would generate warmth, not enough to make you not resent throwing the covers off, but enough to give you one moment of peace in the milling million of madness.

 (P.S.If the bed partner is new think also of the head-start you could get by hurriedly combing your hair to picture glossiness and readying your teeth to blinding freshness,benefits all around.

P.P.S don’t kick me I’m just a messenger nudging a theory into being, and it being late again tonight I’m sure my feet will plant themselves firmly to the ground tomorrow, but there is always hope for day after.

P.P.P.S becauseeee' tomorrow never dies',sorry, couldn’t resist my James bond repertory !!!!!)

HAVE A GOOD DAY!!!!

(tin tin tannin..Brittania..)