The Calm that Comes in the Wee Hours of the Morning

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I find myself not being able to sleep.

Not from lack of exhaustion...no! The way work has been lately... I'm out like a light at a very modest hour and stay in that position till a decent time in the morning. Then all hell breaks loose again, but I say that with love.

No, I find myself awake because a mosquito bit me on my forehead.

Well there was no going back to sleep, so I picked up my cell, browsing all the usual channels, Facebook, Instagram... Wait, I did not check up on twitter.

Still no semblance of sleep came on.

And the runny nose got runnier. It was time to sit up and get something done.

Ah there was some outstanding printing to be done, so did that. The allergy attack was still in play, so got a cup of tea. Tragedy- didn't turn out all that nice! But chugged it down regardless- waste not want not, or is it the other way around?

Anyhow, with all that out of the way and the nose giving me some respite, and literally nothing to do, my mind wandered where it usually wanders when given the slightest chance (not giving it a chance has become a survival tactic), towards the memories of my children.It's never good venturing out along those lines of thought.


It's never good venturing out along those lines of thoughts. It leads to a dark and unholy place, one where the path to goodness is easily lost, one where the fog of gloom and misery can weigh you down and blind you to the light up ahead.

And it's so darn alluring, it beckons and calls and woos and seduces. It whispers into my ears, steers me almost physically, commanding me to take a stroll.

But I am strong and I say to these whispers, I don't need that, see my God watches over that path, and what lies at the end of it, for there is nothing for me there, nothing that I can do.

I then turn my head around to the realization of my reality, and the blessings endowed upon me.

I make it sound easy, but it is not. It is a battle. It is a war, but it is increasingly looking like the odds are in my favour, it looks like I'll make it, I have already travelled the opposite path and have covered miles and miles of unchartered territory leading me to wonders and knowledge and all things beautiful that I never knew existed.

And a calm overcomes me, for in the wee hours of the morning when all is still except for monotonous whizzing of the fan, a gracious veil of peace and harmony envelops me. The pinch deep inside my chest still squeezes, it is always there with its grip, but it lets go for a bit. It lets go as all the hurt and all the yearning slowly is wrapped up yet again (it has a way of coming undone), this time not to be packed away in a deep and secret chamber in the recesses of my heart, rather it makes it way onto the palms of my outstretched hands, and I blow it up into the heavens with a couple of tears.

The moment is surreal.

And then it is gone. The alarm rings, the morning prayers beckon. And I am ready to conquer the world.

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