HURRY UP!

(I had to write an essay in English class once and I have hung on to it ever since because I loved it so much. I sound so young, so much innocence, very Enid Blyton-ish!)

Beep beep, beeppp beeeepppp… I hate alarms :(

Irritated, I turned it off and I was about to snuggle deeper into the covers. Who ever gets up at 5 AM anyway? Half asleep, I saw a face in my dreams – PING – I leapt out of bed, almost falling, and rushed through the tortuous process of getting ready. Why do things take longer when you have to finish them fast?
Mom was awake (she is not someone who snoozes) and looked at me with a smile like a soft white cloud, her eyes twinkling. She laughed as I did a jig and gulped breakfast down as fast as I could.

The train is not going to come any earlier if I hurry through all this; it will probably be late, knowing our very own Indian Railways! Our driver will not deign to arrive a minute before 6 AM, even if I tried a spot of telepathy. But still I hurried! Only one person understood exactly how I felt and mirrored all my excitement. Boris, my dog, had this uncanny knack of knowing exactly when dad would come home. He jumped around, barking at nothing in particular, and almost digging up the whole garden. He finally came and sat next to me and both of us waited for our ‘punctual’ driver, looking at my watch about two times every second, and getting more and more agitated.

His lordship (my driver!) finally turned up – not in a dirty lungi and even dirtier shirt, but clean pants and a new shirt! Seems dad had got that for him for Diwali. He had even combed his hair, and lit an incense stick in the taxi. I guess appa must be honoured with such immense preparations.
We miraculously set off in two minutes, both mom and me looking fabulous (but of course!). I started my whining asking mom whether we could take Boris – the usual NO came as the answer, but it was worth a try! My driver looked at me angrily – imaging a dog planting his dirty paws on his plush seat covers! Sheesh!

As we turned a corner I could see the tip of Boris’ nose stuck over the gate, and an air of anxiety which clearly said, “Oh, are you going away too, leaving me?” “We will soon be back with Appa” I yelled to him, as we went by, much to the amazement of the medical shop guy sleepily opening his shop. There was no human in sight!

As we drove through our village, I saw everyone surfacing sleepily – but to my eyes every face I saw seemed to smile in welcome and anticipation, every tree seemed to dance in merriment, every blade of grass seemed to move in time to the wind’s music. Everything was bursting with happiness, a merriment beyond description – all for Appa’s sake I was convinced!
And oh, the sun! We were driving east, and the sun rose in a golden splendor; the earth blossomed in the warmth of his rays, shaking the darkness away nonchalantly. The sky took on a beautiful orange hue, and birds began to chirp ‘welcome’ as I laughed aloud in glee. I looked around, feeling like a master surveying the preparations she had made to welcome back a dear one.

I wished the car would grow wings and land at the station at once, or better still, get teleported there immediately. But all journeys come to an end, and so did this one – an especially joyous end, as it was so long awaited. The train trundled in as we reached the platform. Wow, it was on time! I ran alongside my dad’s coach. I stood peering into one doorway, and suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder, and simultaneously a familiar, well-loved voice saying “Princess” – well, dad was home!