Poetry at dawn

 I started writing this one after what seemed like a couple of hours of twisting and turning in my bed. I checked the time, it was exactly 4.59 am. I had tried walking around the house, which threw me into a thought trail for sometime, but was not enough to calm my dopamine starved brain which continued to crave for something further interesting.

I was not gonna open my phone that was for sure. Because, well, I was trying, just trying, to practice some screen time hygiene. And so I went up to the study and grabbed my laptop instead. Because why not? When in a world full of 2 second reels, watching a whole youtube video counts as focus time. Then surely writing a blogpost would not make for bad screen time.

Anyway, so coming back to now, the house was completely dark, and I spread a durrie besides the giant corn plant in my guest room right next to the east facing window, which threw a mild glow from the slightly purple sky outside, just sufficient for me to write. I sat down on the floor, resting my back on the wardrobe behind and felt a gentle breeze sway the leaves of the corn plant making a soft rustling sound. Oh this was relaxing. I overlooked the window and counted only a window or two that were lit, as most people continued their sleep unaware of the beginning of the break of the dawn.

And that's weird because now that I was up, I could clearly hear the rooster crowing at every half a minute gap, and what is even weirder is that we have roosters in the first place, right in the middle of the city. It had been long since I have been up so early. And it had been longer since I had been in such quiet, albeit the white noise around me, threw acoustic clues on how this part of the city slowly came to life everyday.

I went back and grabbed a pillow and my summer blanket, to make my makeshift writing setup cozier, hoping that it would induce some sleep. By now, I could hear the occasional cough and some mild chatter, along with the sounds of scooters or autos whizzing through the open roads. 

Few minutes in of some deep breathes, smelling the varnish of my wooden cupboard, I wondered what that sound was, almost as someone was walking, like treading through the landlocked patch of land, present right next to the wall of the window. I had never really seen anyone, not even a dog, walking on that land, which had now become a garbage patch of sorts, thanks to the folks of the building across, who found it completely convenient. This apartment has it's fair share of thin walls too though, so it was not completely new to me to experience sound play. Only till last year, I could hear as if someone was moving their furniture post midnight, in the apartment above, which was eerier because it was unoccupied at that time.

Stupid thought trails, it was so easy to wind down on any path, when you are half asleep...

I sat in the quiet for some more time, and then headed back to my room, this time with being more at peace with myself and in better harmony of my surroundings. It was still almost dark, and I did not want to miss the chance of catching a quick second sleep. I bid goodbye to the corn plant and promised that I would be back again on some more mornings, silently observing the bramh muhurat with it, the ideal hour of the day to wake up as per Ayurveda.

As for now, I neatly folded the durrie and kept it back in its place and tiptoed my way back to the bed, keeping my meanderings a secret... till I post this blog.