I am not a morning person

But then again I am barely even a person,

But since I am not a morning person

And when I am forced to leave my warm smothered bed

I cringe and cry

Not wanting to rise.

I shed off all my dreams

When suddenly, my alarm screams

And as soon as my feet touch the floor,

My mother rushes in, thrashing the door.

“We have guests at our place, and I need milk!”

“So?” I want to show some fury.

I do not say a word

Instead rush to the kitchen

To get my morning drug.

“Please, you can have coffee once you come back,

I need milk and some bread before that.”

I give her a look

Morning without a coffee

Is barely morning at all

And since I am not a morning person

It makes me furious after all.

 

In a deep blue pair of pajamas

And a plane tank top

A lost rough bun, with loose strands on my careless face

I grab the keys to my vehicle

And leave, muttering under my breath

“Who goes to someone’s place at this hour?”

 

I am barely awake

What with an early morning

And no coffee-

 

 

And so I am in a hurry

More of a hurry for a cup of coffee

Than of furnishing the breakfast for our guests.

“Yeah, go on judge me” I say out aloud

To no one in particular.

And since its early morning

Not many shops have even opened

The supermarket is still closed too,

And I roam about in my effort to find some place

That will provide me with the needed!

Breakfast!

“Why can’t they just drink a coffee and be done with it instead?”

I could have made all kinds,

Even tea

All kinds.

But our guests had to have breakfast

And we had to finish all our bread the previous day.

And so I drive around in a chirpy and yet quite morning

Warm and yet a cool morning.

I remember suddenly, the bakery!

And I rush there.

There is a small grocery store beside it too

Thankfully!

Finally! Both of them have started their day

And very soon I have the needed

A carton of milk,

And a packet of bread,

And I am driving home.

 

I am not the best of drivers

Least when it comes to cars,

But I drive my Honda Dio pretty well.

Over the decade of driving two wheelers

I have had the knack of balancing and rushing

Without being a sneaker.

And so at the speed of 30-40 on a empty lane

I am driving and enjoying the beautiful morning arcane.

When finally my stubbornness is over the fact

That I had to wake up and rush about for others

It starts drizzling,

And then pouring

And then consistently raining!

Now, as usual I am again grumpy

Just when I was adjusting

All fell again crumbling.

What choice do I have

Either I get late for the entire day

Or I get drenched

And finally start my day!

I chose the latter.

 

Now, rains are not my favorite part

“What did I say?”

“I don’t like rains?”

“Are you mad?”

Now, don’t get me wrong

Rains are needed

Beautiful too-

But I am more of a reality person

And rains always have been to me burden.

What with the puddles and the potholes

The overflowing murky water

And the atmosphere, a constant rotter.

But since I am doing everything against my own will

I keep driving

I keep drenching

And begin somehow, to enjoy

The morning chill.

Who cares- about how I look

I am probably just a black and white sketchbook.

It is early in the morning

And there is no one around

For the days aborning.

And so I let myself soak,

And the cool breeze, float.

 

The rains have prevented

The one or two early risers

Leaving the day isolated and scented

With only one or two miners

 

I am driving back home,

All too careful, not to skid

When an Enfield comes and skits inches away from me.

The me, that always finds mistakes in myself

Cringes and slows down

Only to realize that the gawky man has turned around.

I am still away from home

And the street is empty-

 

I drive away.

He drives away!

 

A little while later

I notice the Royal Enfield again

And I want to take off

Just like a rocket plain.

I speed

He speeds

I have a Honda Dio

He has a Royal Enfield.

I stick to the extreme left,

Giving him the entire road,

Its raining and I don’t want to cause some explode.

And yet he drives centimeters away from me

And my heart thumps as if

He was on the verge of thrashing me.

He slows down fairly just a little ahead of me

And then I slow down too

Thinking how to flee.

I keep forgetting I am drenched,

My tank top stuck to me,

And my pajamas are defining my legs, carefree.

He is not bothered by my driving skills

But he is amazed by a woman’s drenched frills.

He finds me enticing

And he has nothing better to do

On a morning that is so surprising.

 

The clouds have grown darker

The rains heavier

And I can barely see the road’s departure,

But I have to find an exit now!

And I have to get home- NOW!!

 

And so with sheer force

I speed my vehicle

Zigzagging against the course

Noticing his face, unbelievable.

Oh, what a psychopath

He whistles at my expertise

But diverts his path

And I breathe, a sigh of relief.

 

And then I am no mood of fury,

Or any agony,

Not for the fact that I had an early morning,

Not for the uninvited guests

And not for the Royal Enfield.

It was just as normal, just as mundane-

Nothing was new

Not the woman’s bane.

It was just mandatory

Because if you are a woman

Sexuality was your only glory.

 

I sped home,

Indeed like a rocket plane

And then somehow my deep blue pants

Had turned even a deeper shade.

But I didn’t care

For nothing was new

And so I went to the kitchen

And poured the coffee, due.