“Most probably we won’t miss the sunrise tomorrow,” we said to each other while wishing a good night to the wrinkled moon.
It’s a fact in my life, I see the rising sun only two or three times in a year. But I love Sunrise. I love how orange-ish the world turns to, how fresh that blue shade of the sky looks once it gets enlightened. My eyes get soaked with moist or memories, as if the fog finally eloped with dark nights to welcome the new morning. There’s something about mornings that makes all of us awake. There’s something about it. Some well-kept secret that no human beings could know.In a week or so I will start a new journey on old roads and I will see many sunrises for some time. This year is different, it was supposed to be different and filled with many sun-kissed mornings.We keep driving uphill while playing hide and seek with the baby Sun. The hue of the nature keeps changing too. Our radio plays “It’s always a good time” as if that dead set of wires and missing parts feels alive too today.Some mornings, you know, start so smoothly, as if someone behind the camera set the stage perfectly and we are just playing our part. Well scripted and well directed play, yes, it looks like that.