Window Views: My Morning Muse

Once again, I managed to drag myself out of bed, bathe in heated water, dress up in a hurry, partially comb my wet hair, and finally rush to the bus stop at 6:45 am. My earrings and safety pins were still clenched in my fist, and the things inside the bag slung over my shoulder lay cluttered as I pulled out my ID card and wore it around my neck. The bus would be there any minute.

The bus arrived at 6:50 am, and I boarded it with a smile, and waded through the aisle as I looked for a place to sit. Coming to two empty seats adjacent to each other, I dropped my bag into the first one, and slid my own self into the other one by the window. I opened out the closed window and immediately felt content as the pleasant morning breeze made its way in. Quickly, I organized the things in my bag, put on my earrings, pinned up my clothes wherever necessary, opened out my hair and combed it lightly. Then I adjusted my seat to just the right position; pushed back so that I could lean comfortably, but not too far back that I end up sticking my head into the lap of the person seated behind me. I double-checked this position, ensuring that the seat acted suitably as a wall to avoid anyone from intruding into my privacy. Then, settling into my favourite posture, I turned towards the window to enjoy the peaceful quiet of the city as the bus made its way through it.

In a crowded metropolitan city like mine, this serenity is a rare and precious thing. You may not believe me when I tell you this, but there is really a time so peaceful and beautiful, in the city of Chennai, everyday as the sun begins to rise out of its cloudy abode. The city looks unusually beautiful at dawn; I don’t know if everything is naturally so at that time of the day, or if it is because I seem to notice the trees and the roads better without the distraction from all the people and things that fill up the place later during the day. Even the colours on the trees and the flowers look fresher, perhaps free from dust and pollution.

Looking out through the window that morning, I saw that the roads were mostly empty, except for an occasional paper boy or milkman passing by in a bicycle or a motorbike. There were no sounds of blaring horns or racing vehicles, no visible smoke or dust rising into the air, and none of those smells usually associated with a busy day on the streets. I noticed a few women sweeping the front portions of their houses and decorating them with beautiful, flowery kolam. The usually crowded malls were shuttered and deserted, and a night guard stood up and stretched his body as he got ready to finish his shift and return home. In a wayside park, a few middle-aged men and women dressed in tee-shirts or kurtas were seen flexing their bodies, while the others jogged around in their sports shoes. As the bus made its way over a small bridge, I saw a few people sculling (rowing) through the dark waters of a polluted lake that flowed below it.

Even as I took in all of these intriguing sights, I was slowly being lulled to a slumber by the morning breeze. Every time the bus took a turn, the sun played hide-and-seek with me, its light tingling my closed eyes each time it appeared at my window. By the time the bus took its final turn in the trip, into OMR, it was starting to get hot. I leaned forward a little and soaked my face in the sun for a minute. Then, tying up my wind-dried hair into a neat pony tail, I watched the high-rise glass buildings go by. Soon it was time to get off, because I had reached my destination – another one of those high-rise glass buildings. I got off, and as I walked in from the crisp new morning, and into the air-conditioned building, I couldn't help but wonder: What would my journey have been without that window?

There is something very charming about windows that attract me to them. They seem to have the ability to make everything look much more beautiful than they actually are. Perhaps it is because of the way they create a frame for my view, turning everything I see into a portrait. Or is it their ability to set my mind racing, put my heart at rest, and boost my imagination? I can never really tell. But on that day, the view from that particular window beside my seat gave me enough life, enough cheer, enough beauty to go through another tough working day! :)

So go ahead, 

“Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.” -- Edith Wharton.