Is it morning yet??

It so happened that I decided to revive my writing habits and came across this... an excerpt of something I never completed it and probably never will do :( . You are free to assume the previous and later parts. This is more of an abstract and not a story. I understand, there is no plot.


... It was one of those bright sunny morning you would love to see when u wake up from a chilly winter night with the sunrays glistening the window-panes and the sun neither too glaring nor hidden by the cold. One in which the sky is clear blue, almost transparent, as if you can see the heaven above. One in which the fury of the heaven is forgotten. For some days, the sunny mornings had become quite common, so much that it was almost forgotten that the season was still of winter... winter - cold, frosty, chilly winter... one that does not have snows but just sharp, freezing breeze cutting through life. For, it was yet another sunny morning with no breeze to cut through and walking on such a morning is not mere pleasure, but more than that, an experience that one would like to have everyday. But then when things happen too often, they are taken for granted, their pleasures forgotten, importance lost and uniqueness merged with the "common". The same thing happened with this morning as well. It was taken for granted, its gleaming glory lost in the mundane works of everyday. Untill there was a flash of light. A silent flash that was easily missed in the broad daylight. Lightning with no sound of thunder - like the slit of a knife suddenly slicing the skin, blood oozing out, no pain but just a realization that the skin is cut. With that flash the sun was lost. Dark, heavy, frightening clouds took over the sky, curtailing the heaven that was till now visible. Darkness consumed the land like the wild fire that spreads in a jungle.

It rained. Heavy drops fell, dotting the soft land with grooves. Grooves that would remind of the rain long after the water vaporizes above or percolates down and the land is dry again. And with the rain a cold, chilly winter night descended ...too early, too quickly for the bright sunny day. The beating of the heavy rain in the ground lulled ... no... lulled is too soft a word... frightened the mankind into sleep. Each time the eyes opened, the mind thought "is it moring yet", and the heart asked, "where did I lose my bright sunny morning". And nature does not reply, but the question echoes -

Is it morning yet??

Ahem... I guess this was a try to write something different form my usual things. A bad try I agree, but a try is still a try... :D,And bear with me for this is neither a poem nor a story. And however much I try, I cannot turn my eyes away from nature :D as I am asked to do so often.