Normal Office Mornings

Today, doesn't have to be a perfect, it just has to be normal and familiar. The alarm is set for 7.30 am but i drag myself out of bed at 7.45 am sharp. A minute's delay can hamper the entire day's schedule, so i take no such risks. I brush my hair and teeth, clean my face and have my breakfast. The dining table is ready with lemon juice, two slices of bread with sugar sprinkled on it, a hot cup of tea so i can dip my bread in it and an egg sunny side up. I have a nice morning conversation with my mommie and then rush to have my bath. Fresh from my wash, i get dressed, check the time and put my lunch box in the bag. Satisfied, i leave home ready to face the brave new world.

8.25 am I leave home to catch the 8.35 Metro from Jatin Das Park. On the road, while trying to dodge my way through morning traffic, i pass the butcher's shop and feel sickened by the smell of rotting meat, hear the chickens' cry from being carried upside down on a cycle,watch the para puppies sleep blissfully on the sand. I buy the day's ticket from the man with a bad haircut, listen to latest Bengali songs on IncodaTV and stand at my choosen spot where the metro door opens at my feet. I get in and smile at the regulars and try to balance myself in the speeding metro without the help of the hand support. As the metro approaches my destination, i.e, Park Street Metro Station at 8.50 am i get ready to jump out of the cabin. As the metro stops and the doors open, i get out as quickly as i can leaving behind the hordes of individuals commuting with me.

As i walk along Park Street, i hear the drummable beats of the cobbler's brush, attracting the attention of fast-paced officer goers, i see the beggar woman with her little baby, the well-fed dogs of Karnani mansion basking themselves in the sun, the cleaners carrying the dump of Park Street in their thela garis, the pavements dug up for yet another plumbing or electrical job and garbage strewn carelessly on the street.

On approaching Wellesly road, lungi clad men are busy having their bath in public or kick-starting their day by drinking Chattu, urchin boys are fast sleep on the pavement and the local bazaar is buzzing with frantic activity. Close to my workplace, i walk past dazed rag-pickers doing heroin or crack cocaine and avoid eye-contact. I quickly walk inside my office building and ask whether my boss has arrived. At the reception area, i enter the time 9.00am in my attendance card. Now, it's time to work.