A Sweet Nostalgia

A precise curvature of timing, a willingness to start the day anew, the persistent passion of learning had gotten me to wake up early that morning. The destination was far yet the excitement and the serotonin rush would get me there, that was the mindset of a 16-year-old self when waking up at 5 am did seem credulous. It was nothing but a new found love for music, I had picked up an instrument, a violin and back in the small town I live I had to cover a long distance from home, early mornings, a clinomania head but the moment I used to ride, all my senses went alive and I submerged in happiness just like an epoch of belief..Seemed as if all the sprinklers have turned off, the scents of the canola and the rapeseed washing over me were just heavenly.

The hot ginger tea served in the temperature stricken porcelain cup was a retreat to the cold bristled body. For that one moment, I used to feel the most credential throughout the day and free from the gravity of the burdens I carried. To nights that went being a Nocturne when I had not been practicing my instrument, days seemed dull. The start of the day was an experience that I cherished and used to look forward as the day ended.

They say nights are the best for gaining insights and productivity, but the belief that dawns are incredibly inspiring and beautiful had gotten me up again, five years later.

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