The morning wind, too warm, is wafting in from the corniche. It comes in rudely to lift the heavy curtains as they fall down against the window in a lazy thud. The sun shouldnt be this bright at this time of the day at all..
The banket that gave me this warm-but-still-cool feeling wouldn't do any good any more. The birds that live atop the ledge, right across my window fly like darts to and fro. May be I am the only one who still is pondering; "Is it still too early to get up?"
Yesterdays newspaper still unread over the fridge, some clothes in a careless pile at the foot of the bed, a stained tea cup on the study table. Well, thank God, I am still myself on a saturday morning.
The keeper guy has started cleaning the courtyard and wasting water as usual. Doesn't he know that it is a matter of minutes before the dust invades again? And today, once again, he has forgotten to get the newspaper which is still on the ground, where it fell when the newspaper guy threw it in. He hasnt seen it as yet. The water on the floor has almost reached it. Another wet paper for the fridge top.
A toyota land cruiser comes around the corner and glints the sunlight off its glass, blinding me for a few seconds. A lone rooster jumps off the waste bin and runs for shelter. I can hear the drone of engines from the flying club.The incessant flying would start in no time. I decided against the usual morning tea. Something cold would do. Even the wardrobe has heated up from the slanting sun rays that comes in. Before I pull the curtains across, I span the area once again. I cringe my eyes. The birds are still darting. No one on the road. THe dust that arose with the arrival of the 4 x 4 has settled. The rooster is back on top of the waste bin and his wife is giving him company. My sleepiness has suddenly disappeared. Outside, the desert was a hundred degrees.
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