Every morning

This is how I begin most of my mornings.

Almost every morning, I am distracted from my sleep by the parallel sunbeams which shine through the shutters of my bedroom. With a slight squint, I take a peak and look at the morning star to warm my eyes. I can feel the sunrays melt in shades of comforting yellow within my heavy-eyes. The inner voices of my head are still not awake so I quickly fluff my pillow with weary hands, flip myself to a more comfortable position and continue to curl under layers of goose-feathers. Still, it feels a little cold, so I hug myself between six other pillows and create a little cuddly protective fold. With a slight smile and sealed eyes, I wish for one more moment of peaceful silence. But it’s true; you can never have everything you wish for. Moments after my consciousness begins to tap in, my auditory senses are also awakened by the sound of sirens from my cruel fuzzy alarm. With a clumsy hand, I almost drop everything on my side table as I try to switch the alarm off. “اصبحنا واصبح الملك لله - We have reached the morning and at this very time all sovereignty belongs to Allah”, I mumble my first words of the day. Slowly as I stretch my arms and legs, I indulge in the feeling of a blood flood streaming from my head to toes. That’s when I know for a fact that I have spent my night curled like a little shrimp. In my mind, I wonder how my loved ones are. I begin to think to myself, “is my mother walking through our garden picking flowers and whispering her morning prayers? … Is father comfortably seated in his office sipping his tea and reading today’s newspaper? How are my brothers? What are cousins doing now? How are my friends….did she get the dress she wanted? Did he get to uni. on time? Have they decided whether it’s Paris or Rome we’re going to on Christmas? Oh well….i guess I’ll find out sometime soon”. Suddenly, the chain of my thoughts is disturbed by the voices of my friends as they chatter on as they pass my room to make their way to the kitchen. That is obviously when my taste-buds are awakened by pops of fresh toast from the toaster and the strong scent of cinnamon latte. It’s now definite . . . I cannot go back to sleep. Especially now that I have breakfast planned firstly in my mental agenda followed by a hectic list of must do’s for the rest of my day. I just cannot make a quick spring out of bed....come to think of it, if people were meant to pop out of bed, we'd all sleep in toasters! Anyhow..so I drag myself out of bed, stable my feet on the floor and make my way to the bathroom. In my heart though, I’m secretly wishing for a good day wishing for a louder laughter, a tighter friendly-hug, a gentler form of tenderness and self-satisfaction derived from self-love. I am wishing for more delightful surprises and in general…for an eventful yet productive day.

I hope i never have to wake up plunged to a psychological shock, i hope with every morning I am blessed with a good day, a new lucky sway and a peacefull way to a world that has become a source of human fray… memi~