And it is a good morning

“What on earth are you still doing with the damn newspaper” screamed dad as I sat up all groggy in bed. The grogginess, well… I think that story is worth another post in itself. So yeah…I dug out my phone from under the pillow to check the time and it was just 7 in the morning. My eyes hurt from having not slept properly in over 48 hours, but I knew that if I slept any longer, I was asking for some serious trouble. I hauled myself out of the comfort of my bed, oh wait, it wasn’t that comfortable anymore. The air conditioner had been switched off four hours earlier and it was as hot as hell! I adjusted my pillow leaving my phone under it for safe-keeping. Rule number 1: Never wake up with the cell phone in your hand, especially if your family can see you doing that.

Then, I see my brother walking into the room with the grumpy expression on his face and mumbling under his breath. Just as I was getting used to the light, my mom screamed for me from the kitchen. By now I was wide awake. I got around to brushing and then went to the most hated part of my mornings, milk. (Yuck!) I grabbed my coffee mug from the kitchen counter and moved to the balcony, away from everyone at home as they rushed about, trying to get ready on time. I settled comfortably in the easy chair (like a 60-year old as my mom liked to remind me) and opened the newspaper. And as always, I lost interest in the news that had been published after a mere fifteen minutes. I turned my attention to all the noise that was coming from outside.

It was almost 8’o clock. Most schools around this area begin at around 8.30 or 9 and I knew that there would be all the auto-wallas honking and screaming for the kids to come quickly lest they be late for school. I smiled to myself as I remembered those days when I was one of them, running around in a hurry trying to avoid being late to school. I paused to take in the scene around me. There was the usual middle-aged mother next door dutifully oiling her daughter’s hair and plaiting it. Was it my imagination or did the girl look grumpy? Well, it could be my imagination because back when I was in school, I was never happy with whatever my mother did with my hair. I would constantly complain about how my hair was standing up at the back or in front, phew… it was a bit of a struggle until 8^th grade after mother gave up on me and told me that I could do whatever I wanted with my hair. I felt like I’d won my battle with her.

Coming back to the present, I decided to focus elsewhere and noticed that there was another girl down near the compound gate probably waiting for her father to bring their car out. Meanwhile, the vegetable seller came in. The empty pavement was suddenly filled with women of different ages as they all hurried to get the best of vegetables at reasonable prices. They argued and pushed around for about fifteen minutes and when each of them had collected what they wanted, they started to move out leaving the vendor to count his collection for the day. He counted and appeared satisfied as he put the money in his tin box. He looked up at me where I stood watching and smiled. One happy man, I thought to myself as I waved to him indicating that we had the vegetables we needed for the day and would not be making any purchases.

He pushed his cart out and went to the next compound just as my mom yelled again from inside causing me to jump. I’d nearly forgotten about the milk I had brought. It was cold now, I tried to take a sip, but it tasted so bad that I couldn’t bring myself to drink anymore. I looked around to see what I could do when I saw Mouschi, the neighbor’s cat jumping into our balcony from the sunshade. J I smuggled a pan from the loft, poured my milk out into it and gave it to her. She lapped it up in no time and all I had to do was hide the pan till my parents left for work. I came back inside with the most innocent look that I could muster and that was the end of an eventful morning. One definitely worth describing. J