The alarm clock, which I had kept adjacent to my bed, started ringing. I was fast asleep, dreaming something and this ringing filled up a part of the dream. I wasn't bothered for it was only a dream. When it kept ringing persistently, I realized that the dream can not hang like a computer and keep executing continuously in a loop, and that it was indeed my alarm clock that was ringing.
Reluctantly I gave up the warmth of my bed, and got up. Though I wasn't very happy, but I wasn't sad either. I would have preferred sleeping as long as I wished, if it wasn't a question of earning bread and butter. After getting fresh, I walked out of my house about half hour earlier than the usual time of 7.00a.m, when you have to run frantically towards the bus-stop to catch bus at the last minute. The sun was just rising in the east and calm and cool breeze flowing through the trees had already awakened birds. I wondered if I had seen any of these birds in the past two or three years after I had left my college and joined this job as an assistant manager. It felt much better than the regular days, I had witnessed the rising of sun, chirping of birds, cool and fresh breeze which has become rare commodity now. The relatively deserted road, which I cursed daily for its small width would be crowded in the next few minutes, looked much wider and even. And together with the fragrance of mogra, jasmine and covered almost completely by gul-mohar trees on either sides, which had just blossomed was an amazing sight. I wondered how can I pass through the same street daily and yet never ever see the beauty of it?
The alarm rang again. I paused to check my wrist watch and then I jumped in the surprise, for it was already 6.45a.m and I was still in my bed, hoping not to miss again the 7.00a.m bus.