Morning divinity

I slept unusually well last night. So well, that I had to tell Amma even before getting up from bed. She responded with closed eyes and a hum, kissed my forehead and turned to get up.

Moments later, I rose from bed, pulled put the large crumpled bedsheet and tried to think of another sheet I could spread for today. And as I was uncovering the pillows, I heard the most miraculously divine sounds. The Namaaz was being solemnly recited at a distant mosque, and from a nearer surrounding, a few voices were reciting Guruur Brahma. It must’ve been the cheerful old men who gather at the jogging track every morning to meditate and practise laughter therapy. I couldn’t see anything from my window except for dim spots of yellow light on the deserted dark street. It still looked like night out there.

But in reality, dawn is already here. The sun is already being prayed to and welcomed, together and alike by every human faith.

It will soon be light.

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