Monday Morning

Waking up by 4 as usual,spiritualizing my soul, energizing my mind and body with the bliss of hearing suprabhaat,which is strongly surmised of waking the Almighty himself,up from sleep, as my Brahmin neighbor turns up the volume of her audio player which has ne'er played anything other than devotionals,till date.Being a logophile,as soon as I wake up,I look to the 'word of the day' in my mobile dictionary application,and note it down in my "favourite words" list if I found an inner voice of my heart telling me ,"You must use this beautiful word in something you write, today" , in my 'Vocab diary',possessing which,I considered as a rich legacy. Myself, a stickler for perfection in all aspects,subject all my assignments to scrutiny by my eyes,which are the best knockers.Then,because of my mind's inexorable inquisitiveness,I am forced to check my mobile notifications,and following this,I read a good quote to begin my day buoyantly, as i sup up slowly a cup of toothsome tea brewed by my Granny who gets ultra-scrupulous when it comes to cooking.Then,I try to keep my eyeballs off the television,which would start functioning the minute,my Granny arouses from sleep. She has a busy schedule from 5 to 8,occupied with devotional lectures by great sages followed by a heartmelting song by the Indian music maestro Ilayaraja,which lets me experience the "honey in ear" effect.The consequence is, I start humming the song knowing not, when I would cease murmuring the wrong lyrics.The television needn't be called an "idiot box" in our home, having none to whom it was a magnet ,or who was a couch potato or lazy bones.I inveterately watch only NDTV,BBC, etc which never fails to perplex my pals.Then stands my Grandpa outside with his 10 year old motorcycle, vrooming,horning and sending all alarming signs to express urgency, but at least 15 minutes ahead of the scheduled bus-arrival timing, to get to the bus stand,which was hardly 2 minutes from home.Having reached the bus stand first,I keep standing still with my college bag which would serve a good punching bag for a boxer.Then comes Chitra,my bus confidant who never returns back that small formal smile,given by me,leaving all the others near, with a doubt,that I was affected by a weird disease of smiling at invisible beings.When I met her,the first day,she only replied by nodding her head or by shaking it from left to right.I thought to myself," Will I ever hear her voice before I leave the college? ". But then, I realized that she only had a " starting trouble".Once she got little acquainted with me, she started talking.She talked much, so much, that I thought like giving her some water to drink.She is a quidnunc who always natters about some hero or heroine,whose ABC I knew not.Like me, she also came always accompanied by her Grandpa.Until the bus arrives,the two septagenarians ,nattered about the Indian kakistocracy. Then sprints our senior,Amrita who arrives when there is exactly a minute left for the bus to come.She takes part in our chat for a few seconds until the bus arrives,and then, settle in different places,with each of us doing different things. I habitually open a book of my interest until reach the college. No sooner than I read a single line of either Jane Austen's or R.K.Narayan's ,I could expect an interruption by Chitra for sure, asking me "Have you seen that film?". And I say an incurious "Nope!".She then mocks at me and calls me a 'nerd' which is followed by my inscrutable expression,serving representation of my wrath aroused by the completely deplorable statement she made.She then criticises the movie and I say a laconic," Oh I see..",and this is the only sequential order of events for the next 40 minutes, until we reach the college.But then,this intriguing morning,when unescorted by Chitra,though uninterrupted, would really be insipid and monotonous for me,I know...