It's six in the morning. The air feels like an impending storm, heavy with the promise of something fierce. The wind is strong, the darkness still thick, and the chill is biting. The fog rolls in, blurring everything around me. The breeze teases, the wind whistles louder, and the cold sinks deep”now at a mere six degrees, as my phone shows. The streets are eerily empty, save for the amber glow of a distant streetlight that shines through the haze, casting a sharp halo. In the background, the dew on every surface forms a delicate, shimmering curtain”beautiful, yet almost intimidating to touch.
There are no dogs to be seen, a stark contrast to the usual summer mornings. No low growls or rustling from their hidden spots. With my pace quickening to combat the cold, I spot a few newspaper vendors on bicycles and milkmen hurrying with their cans, racing against the clock. Everyone has their own world, their own work to do. Some call it a career, others a divine calling. My walking route is set for the next hour. Nearby, priests are starting their morning rituals at roadside temples, believing they’ve just awoken the Gods.
In ten minutes, I reach the calm embankment of the river, peaceful and untouched by the ferocious wind. I glance back, knowing no one is following me”only the chilly wind, which feels almost like a shadow in the dark. Though my mind feels sluggish, my body is full of energy. Then, as if to announce the break of dawn, I catch the first rays of light sneaking over the horizon. The sky is turning from dark to light, and birds begin their chatter. A dishevelled crow caws triumphantly from an electric pole. Suddenly, I feel more alive.
A car zooms past, the driver likely feeling like a VIP with no traffic to contend with. The street kids are now awake, gearing up for the day, small trinkets in hand. The sun's first rays touch the sky, painting it red. But a lingering fear stirs in me”this moment might soon be swallowed by the looming winter clouds.
The world’s needs are so strange. In winter, we long for the sun, while in summer, we seek the shade. Yet, what we despise in the summer”the sun”we end up hating in winter”the shade. Nothing is ever constant, only time, which moves in mysterious ways. The warmth of the sun starts to fill the air, and I embrace it as I begin my stretches, moving with the rhythm of my walk. For the first time this morning, my mind begins to thaw, freed from the cold. Light lifts your spirit and refreshes your soul.
Past the river now, I think of how it has flowed all night, steady and strong, much like time”always moving, never stopping. I’ve crossed the halfway point, and stray thoughts start to fill my mind. But the one thought that stands out is work. As long as you’re alive, work will be there”never leaving you. So, keep moving, keep doing, even when it feels like there's nothing left. Life is about action, about karma, and without it, life cannot exist. It’s time to begin the day.
