As a downed a glass of warm Kanji this morning, a black and white wheel started whirling in my mind. I was transported to the days of my attending early morning classes.
I would be woken up by my human alarm, my Mom and would quickly proceed to get ready. The classes would start early by 6:15 am and I would have to leave home by 5:50 latest. There was no excuse for dragging my feet as I had paid hefty fees and it was the only means to show my commitment to the course I had taken up.
I would invariably be late and sneak in to the empty chairs in the last rows, mostly amongst the boys. I didn't make any friends then, it was only me spending a sleepy morning and then whizzing off to work. I had my apprenticeship to be at, so had very little time to stay back for chit chat. Every morning, Mom would make fresh Kanji (porridge) for me to drink after classes. As I gulped down a glass today, I found myself time travelling.
The best part was however the brisk walks in the crisp morning air, rushing from home to the bus stop and more hurried walking from the stop to classes. After the classes I would again set off by foot to my workplace, which was a kilometre and a half away.
Today, as I am getting ready for a visit to my child's paediatrician, I shall also ride down the memory lane. The coaching centre and the doctor's clinic are just two streets away.
Porridge is a Dish, Kanji is an Emotion.
I would be woken up by my human alarm, my Mom and would quickly proceed to get ready. The classes would start early by 6:15 am and I would have to leave home by 5:50 latest. There was no excuse for dragging my feet as I had paid hefty fees and it was the only means to show my commitment to the course I had taken up.
I would invariably be late and sneak in to the empty chairs in the last rows, mostly amongst the boys. I didn't make any friends then, it was only me spending a sleepy morning and then whizzing off to work. I had my apprenticeship to be at, so had very little time to stay back for chit chat. Every morning, Mom would make fresh Kanji (porridge) for me to drink after classes. As I gulped down a glass today, I found myself time travelling.
The best part was however the brisk walks in the crisp morning air, rushing from home to the bus stop and more hurried walking from the stop to classes. After the classes I would again set off by foot to my workplace, which was a kilometre and a half away.
Today, as I am getting ready for a visit to my child's paediatrician, I shall also ride down the memory lane. The coaching centre and the doctor's clinic are just two streets away.
Porridge is a Dish, Kanji is an Emotion.
