Morning blues

Right in the middle : My husband half-opens his eyes, mumbling, "Coffee." I'm waiting for a 'good morning.'

Morning routines for most of us in the rat race are hurried and follow a frenzied inner clock.

I remember my hostel days. As soon as my alarm rang, I would dash out of bed with a plastic bucket in hand to the common bathroom at the end of a long corridor. Usually, my bucket would be the first in line at the large boiler, which provided us with hot bath water. Those who got up late had to contend with long queues and if the boiler was out of hot water, they had to wait even longer.

As children, no soon had we woken up, we were treated to a cheery ‘Good morning!’ by dad. This greeting became a habit. When I got married and came to my in-laws’ home, I would greet everyone in the morning as usual. When my greeting was not reciprocated, I started feeling like an alien from outer space. Soon I fell silent.

Nowadays, the minute I wake up, I rush around dumping clothes into the washing machine, switching on the geysers (one at a time or else the power trips), keeping the door open for the maid, waking up the children (who want to sleep just five minutes longer) and keeping their uniform ready. In the middle of all this, my husband slowly half-opens his eyes and mumbles, “Coffee.”

One morning recently, I asked him sweetly, “What do you say when you see me for the first time in the morning?” He looked at me silently. I provided him the answer, “You must say, ‘Good morning,’ not coffee.” So, these days, he just gives me a hangdog look (which manages to get him the coffee). I am still waiting for a chirpy ‘Good morning’ from him to perk up my day.

With the children in high school, I don’t have to get them ready but still I’m on high alert till they leave. Have they had breakfast? Have they got their lunch box or lunch money? The daughter is usually watching her weight and trying to skip breakfast. I try to get her to drink a glass of juice or eat a fruit. The son usually eats but getting him out of bed is a tough task.

I am the one who has to yell, “Coming…” when the auto driver honks. It is a minimum of 10 minutes after the honking that the kids deign it fit to leave the house. If someone’s socks or tie is missing, I am squarely blamed. “Can’t you do this one thing right?” I am questioned. Amidst all this chaos, I manage to read a portion from the Scriptures and say a prayer. That is probably what keeps me sane.

Peace descends once the two tornadoes leave. Then I have to badger my husband to get ready and go. Not a morning person, most days he asks, “Can’t we just take the day off?” Finally, he is off and I have a few precious minutes to get ready and leave.

My regular auto driver, who waits for me after dropping off some school kids, greets me with a ‘Good morning’ – most days I beat him to it. The sweeper on our road calls out ‘Good morning’ with a wide grin as I rush to get to work.

At my workplace, I smile and greet everyone – from the gate till I reach my cabin, and all of them cheerfully reciprocate. So, I should count my blessings. My mornings definitely have a silver lining.