Sipping Thoughts

I open my eyes to a sanguine sunrise creeping in through the shutters. The ringing of the newspaper boy's cycle bell reminds me of a day ahead that must be made worthwhile. Pulling the blanket over I slip into my chappals and head to make myself a cup of chai. Sipping on the hot concoction while sitting in the balcony and surrounded by the chirping of birds awakens my body and soul. I breathe in the fresh morning air in between sips.  It gets me thinking. There happens to be a lot more to the old lady who sets out at dawn after having prepared the days meals, washes the laundry handed to her the previous day and returns in time to drop her grandson off to school. The millions of things that race through her mind, while she constantly puts her thoughts to action or reflects on them. When her eyes first open, it is her high sense of responsibility that makes her jump out of bed and sets her racing around the house to get together a meal that will keep her grandson healthy while she judiciously cooks with what is available to her from her meager income. She must then gear herself up for the physically daunting task of washing every customer's garment in her possession until it gleams brightly and set them out to dry. She then heads to the vegetable bazaar and collects her day's wholesale buy to resell. Customer's from all strata of society  approach her; the gleam in their eyes on seeing fresh green vegetables itself lets her know that her customer is half won over, all that remains is for her to sell her product like a smart pitchman would. The bargaining begins its onslaught and goes on till both parties decide they've reached a consensus. The lady is happy with the deal and sets her eyes on the next customer who has been analyzing and might just be moving over to the next vendor and she can't allow that. Around dusk she packs up her belongings and heads back to the ghaat to collect the dried garments. Once picked and neatly folded, she ties them in a bedspread and sets out to return them and collect her returns. After a long day, her fragile, bent body heads home. No sooner she enters she receives a warm hug from the child that makes her lose all trouble and give a wide heart-warming smile. I smile to myself and step back into the daily chaos of life.

Parked in an Alley

Parked in an alley, she lay on the tattered seats of her '69 Chevy. The rain cleverly matches its tunes to her sobs. She searches for reasons and the lack of them is frustrating, it never seemed so difficult before. Suddenly everything had changed, she had been thrown into something probably a lot more than what she had asked for. Trying to hold on and stay put is what she just about manages to work with. The rain gradually reduces its decibel and as dawn seems to break, along with it comes the dread of more. But the pain is now a habit which has metamorphosed her physical being into an aura of light and divinity.