I’ve never been an early bird. Like, NEVER. Even when I was a kid, and I was the most obedient thing on the planet, waking up early was the one thing no one could get me to do regularly. I still remember the times my father used to yank me out of bed and throw me straight into the bathroom in an effort to get me to wake up and finish my morning duties in time for school. I even remember that one time my parents tried waking me numerous times to no avail, before giving up and realizing they needed to teach me a lesson. I didn’t go to school that day because I woke up at 12 in the afternoon. It was only after a lot of pleading and crying that my parents agreed to write me a leave letter that didn’t say I had missed class because I woke up late. Ah, good times.
And then university life came along, and what a blessing that turned out to be. No more waking up early every morning unless I had a class. Even then, my friends were around to give me missed calls, or in more desperate cases, bang my door down until I woke up. (Oh, they can tell many, many stories about trying to wake me up!) Life was blissful, and I never saw a single sunrise for the four years that I spent in university. (Unless, of course, I was staying up late, which is another thing altogether.)
And then university life was over, and it was time to get a job. I happily applied to become a teacher, and got in, not realizing what exactly was in store for me. I knew schools started early, but I wasn’t quite aware of just how early “early” really was, until I started working proper. I woke up extra-early the first day, but then as time wore on, it hit me that “extra-early” was going to have to become “normal” for me very soon.
And now, here I am. I’ve been working for four months now, and every day, I wake up at unearthly hours to get ready and travel to school. I bathe and dress in the dark, because the sun has usually not yet risen and I don’t want to wake my roommate up. The girl who used to sleep at 2 every
night morning, has been reduced to going to bed at 10.30 every night (oh, the horror!) in order to get enough sleep to wake up on time in the morning.
Since the academic year is now drawing to a close, and school has officially closed down, the teachers get to come slightly later than usual these days. A few days ago, as I was getting ready to leave the house, I looked out the window and saw the most gorgeous view (I live on the 12th floor, so the view is good) I have seen in quite a while. The sky was a beautiful blue, tinged with pink and purple, and I could literally see the rays of the sun (distinct, separate bands) spreading out over a vast expanse. It was the kind of thing children draw when they’re asked to depict a sunrise, except it was real and absolutely breathtaking. I tried to take a picture, but my camera batteries chose that exact time to die on me. I resorted to my phone as a last attempt, but a picture taken on a phone can never do the real thing justice, can it?
I woke up at around the same time for the next few days, camera batteries charged, in order to catch a repeat telecast, but luck was not on my side. I guess the sun rose earlier than usual that day, or for once, the sky was clear enough of rain clouds to be able to actually see the sunrise, because it was never quite the same after that. I still hope to one day catch that amazing spectacle, but I’m not sure when that day will be.
As I ponder my ill-fate, however, I realize this: I miss the freakin’ sunrise every morning because I get up and leave for work way too early to catch it. Whoever thought THAT day would come, huh?