26 August, 2010

Mornings weave their magic ....


(Image courtesy : 36fss.com via Google)

It is quite remarkable – the way in which parents fall into the “vacation mode” when the kids are having their summer break. Well, let me not generalise on that. Let me personalise it ! It is quite remarkable – the way I fall into vacation mode during the kids’ summer holidays.

That was precisely what happened over these summer holidays too. I’d fallen into a rather comfortable routine of not waking up early in the morning during the holidays. I do vividly remember remarking to a friend of mine about a week before schools were scheduled to re-open “I honestly don’t know who’s going to miss the holidays more – we, the parents or the kids”.

School days definitely mean waking up in the wee hours of the morning. The day begins very early, well before the first rays of sunlight make their presence felt. I groaned inwardly the day before schools reopened. For one, it would mean obeying the alarm clock. Not anymore would I have the rather obtuse pleasure of pressing the “stop” button on the alarm clock, give it a rather victorious look and say “I’m going back to sleep. Let me see what you can do about it. Hmpff”. Not anymore would I have the luxury of that slumber that seems to be at its satisfying best in the early hours of the morn. Not anymore could I seek contentment in the fact that I could wake up, knowingly revel in the fact that I could actually go back to sleep, and drift off into snoozeland once again. That has a different kind of gratification associated with it.

It was once I began to wake up early that I realized the little things I’d missed out on – thanks to my slumber parties during the holidays. Little things, which, by themselves, are not be matters of consequence. Little things, which in their sheer triviality, make one miss out on their presence in one’s life.

Now, the church bells toll (that’s the alarm tone on my IPod, just in case you’re wondering) at half past five in the mornings. It is indeed a rather soothing way to awake to the mysteries of the dawn. The skies still dark, yet not so dark. Those first fledgling rays of light would be threatening to break through the dark skies at any moment as the dark skies try to hold their dominance over the horizon.

The little cheep cheep cheeps of the birds outside herald the start of a new day. I don’t know what they cheep about so furiously in the early hours of the morn, but it registers in the periphery of my consciousness and in an odd sort of way, my very soul finds itself revelling in those little cheep cheep cheeps. On a number of occasions, I’ve caught myself smiling when I listen to those birds chirping.

Timmy the Terrapin would be fast asleep. Even turning on the lights in the bathroom do not wake our dear little Terrapin anymore. For that matter, it chooses not to even open one eye which it normally used to – just to flash me a “are you nuts to be awake at this time of the morning” look and settle back into its sleep mode with what would sound like a very distinct “sigh” to me.

I smile and say “good morning” to Spouty, our water kettle, as it gets around to its job of boiling the first lot of water for the day. My ears would, at the same time, prime themselves – waiting for the soft padded footsteps making their way to the kitchen. That would be Macadamia, who wakes up around a quarter to six. It never fails to bring a smile to my face – the sight of a sleepy, droopy eyed Macadamia making her way to the kitchen to give me a “good morning” hug. Her long hair all askew, eyes rather unfocussed, she reminds me of a kindergartner and not a middle schooler. Those Good Morning hugs are indeed precious. A jolly good way to start the day !

As the first strains of The Gayatri Mantra fill the air, the psyche automatically seems to sense a completeness of sorts, the mind fills and reverberates with the Gayatri Mantra and brings with it a deep, profound sense of peace.

I would be busy packing up snack boxes for the nutty sibs. Then onto the task of cooking and packing their lunch boxes. Interruptions would be aplenty but somehow, in the mist of the morning, stress seems to dissipate.

Just as the CD moves on to the next sector, I wait for what I know I will hear very soon. A rather exasperated sounding Macadamia trying to cajole, cox, command and finally threaten Timmy the Terrapin into moving into its box from the bathtub. I also know that Timmy the Terrapin will steadfastedly ignore Macadamia’s pleas, commands and threats to do so. It is a daily morning ritual that one sees – Macadamia and Timmy the Terrapin sparring with each other. A huffing, puffing and hissing Macadamia would soon plant herself in front of me with a plaintive sounding “Mummy please tell Timmy to get into his box. He’s not listening to me. I have to take my shower else I’m going to be late for my bus.”

In the midst of getting Timmy the Terrapin to walk into his box, Pecan would suddenly appear, looking all bleary eyed and tousle haired, sleep still claiming its rightful ownership on Pecan. Pecan would walk upto us and say “It is too early for me to wake up. So I’m going back to bed for sometime.” In the middle of all this somewhere, I would be gifted a Good Morning Hug from Pecan too. And the little figure would be seen rushing off to bed, snuggling under the warm confines of his summer quilt, which obliges and wraps him up in its cosy cocoon.

Very soon, the whole household will be awake and raring to go. The pedals will be pushed a little harder in order to rev up the speed of the proceedings. The sunrays shine in full glory as I escort Pecan downstairs to meet his school bus. We stop by the letter box on the way to pick up the day’s newspaper which Pecan insists on reading everyday before going to school.

Life merrily falls into a known routine. Pretty much like the old pair of shoes which you know you can slip your feet into at any time and rest assured that your feet will be encased in worn, comfortable leather – leather, which, over a period of time, has learnt to mould itself to the many juts and ridges of the bones on your feet. The feeling is one of going back to a routine which has been but, second nature all along.

1 voice(s) said so:

WhatsInAName said...

Wow! This felt like reading my morning schedule except that 5 30 is 6 here ;) Beautifully described.
However much I hate those getting-up-minutes, the time simply flies off after that :)
Awesome read!