A cold morning in Delhi. The rice lights in my room been twinkling all night, and the thick window curtains kept the bleak foggy daylight out. If it wasn't for the morning alarm, I would have remained in the dark.
Under the thick razaai, I have no intention to get up but the alarm setting on my phone disagrees with me. The air is cold, marble floor colder. The water is unbearable and the idea of getting up to take a bath sends chills down my spine. Have to get up and put a bucket of water to heat. Our maid, who we know only as "Aunty", needs warm water to wash the dishes in the morning. Despite her constant nagging, we couldn't make up our mind to buy a geyser for the kitchen. We chose to stick to heating a bucket of water for her till this season makes way for spring.
Amidst my struggle with getting up vs snoozing, Aunty calls me to say that she won't be able to make it to work this morning. She had gone out for some family issues out of Delhi and wasn't able make it back last night. Naturally, her relatives did not let her leave early in the morning because of the winters. Bottomline: I have to cook breakfast.
My housemate is up already and has to reach office early today. He is working on his laptop. My other housemate is not up yet. I did not take the two Mother Dairy milk packets from the milkman, as there were two in our refrigerator from yesterday, or day before. My birthday party had let most of us dazed for hours next day and milk was the last thing we would have had.
I urge my brain to think for me. The bucket will serve me for my bath. Clock says 8.35. There is still some time to exercise. Just some biceps and shoulders workout. I switch on the computer and play some music. After getting warm a bit, I move to the kitchen. The platform is messed up with empty utensils, plastic bags and spoons. I see that there are no eggs or brown bread (our staple food in the morning). Need to make a trip downstairs to Alam's general store and buy. After getting them, I take out my wallet and there is only a five hundred crisp bill with the father of the nation smiling at me. I had forgot to get change for it all day yesterday. Incidentally, it was at Alam's that the same thing happened yesterday too. I promise to pay him tomorrow and leave. The big black non-stick pan is out on the burner while the white Mother Dairy frozen packets are slowly settling down on another heating water vessel. I see that last night's Aloo-Matar subjzee is still hiding the base of the aluminum pan. I decide to sandwich that into four brown bread slices, slap em with Amul butter and enjoy it with a large sized two egg omlette and a hot cup of tea, with less sugar of course.
The frozen packets have slowly started to come to life again. I throw the water out and start opening the packet, so as to heat the milk in it. Need to use as less utensils as possible, cause if Aunty doesn't make it today, we will have to do the dishes ourselves. While emptying out the packets, some ice from it plops into the milk and spill it over the stove, the platform and myself. I rush to the bathroom, to clean it off. Till then, the bread slices on the pan have started calling my name. I turn them, butter them and empty the second packet of milk.
Eggs are ready to be slain so as to saty my hunger. I let the milk be on low flame, while concentrating on the omlette. Need to get it right, without breaking it. It's a question of honor. It is because of this enthusiasm, that Aunty gives me a call in such situations. She has seen me cook and believes that I will not let the clan leave the house on an empty stomach.
The golden yellow disc is ready to be served on the plate. I remove the pan to make space for tea. The lighter is not working, so I use a matchbox. Everyday, I gently tap the back of my hand and the matchbox lands on the shelf, above the gas stove. But today, as universe and Mr. Murphy were on my case, it lands up right into the tea. I quickly cook up a three-second rule and pick it out. I burn my middle finger from the inner walls of the vessel and the tea ends up with what would be the ambient smell of Sivakasi.
Anyways, breakfast is ready. Milk is ready. I am ready. It does not seem that bad at all.
I clean the milk off the stove and the platform. Leave the garbage out for cleaning crew to take away. Close the door and walk to office with only one thought on my blank and frozen brain: "Need to write about this......"

Razaai: Thick blanket stuffed with cotton, typically decorated with block print patterns
Aloo-matar: Potatoes and Peas
Subzee: A spiced and sautéed Indian preparation of vegetables. To be had with flat breads
Sivakasi: A city in Southern India, known for producing the largest quantity of fireworks and matchboxes