Till the birds sing

I just woke up from a terrible nightmare. The reality wasn’t that bad but it wasn’t very peaceful either. I sat up in the bed and started to fiddle with my mobile just to take my mind off. When I was very young-a child, my father once told me when you wake up from a very bad dream that too an early morning one (which according to popular belief are supposed to come true) you go to some running water or pond , touch the water and say “let the water wash away my nightmare”. Little-me was so scared that it will come true that I used to do this whenever I had a bad dream. This habit has stuck through all these years. It is a silly thing but it has never failed to make me feel better and strangely protected.

I cannot sleep anymore. I am sitting beside the window watching the purple sky slowly lighten up as the first rays of sun pierce the dark night. Slowly the sky is turning into a pinkish orange. And I can hear the first bird singing its song. I haven’t seen a sunrise for so long. Other birds are also joining in. it is such a beautiful thing – early morning and birds singing. It makes you feel there are some things that haven’t changed. Every morning the little bird still gets up. It hasn’t lost hope in this world. Maybe everything is not lost. There is still some love left in this heartless world. There are still lush green fields, beautiful mornings, wise old trees, vast blue oceans and places not poisoned by modernization, hearts which haven’t been turned black yet by selfishness, ego and pride. Simplicity can still be seen. There is still poetry and romance and beautiful fairy tales. There is still some hope left… till the birds sing.

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