16.07.17; 7.23 a.m.

The bright shining sunrays bring me to my conscious in the morning. After a 15-minute struggle with myself, I finally get out of bed, make a cup of tea and sit by the window to watch the world around me start its day. Sometimes, an old man sweeping the street, some kids playing, the newspaper boy bringing information, enthusiasts working out, or vehicles running in queue start my thinking waves in the morning. Other times, the street does not have much to offer. With every sip of my tea, I stare into the oblivion and convince myself to have a productive day. I move around, wish my loved ones, and make up a pseudo-schedule in my head (which I never follow). Work, study, prayer, minimal socializing, reading, and solitude are endless parts of my day. I spend some hours learning what my teachers have to share; some, working for people who need me. I find a couple of hours to strengthen my relationship with what I like to call, The Higher Truth, and well, I avoid talking to people as much as I can. Words take up most of my day. I will either be reading them, or writing them, or, when I am not doing anything else, thinking them. Listening to people’s stories is an adventure I embark upon every day. I sit down with my family, friends, or a group, and listen. The little things in the world around me catch my attention and hold the potential to distract me. Music comes to my rescue when my creativity takes a hit. With every beat that hits my eardrums, I take a step around the park, or at the side of the road, or on my terrace. Nature speaks to me in a language most humans can’t. I witness events that inspire me, events that motivate me, events that break my heart, and events that fill me with gratitude. At the end of my day, I give up every material possession and spend time with my solitude. My thoughts are my only companion and everything else disappears. After a long, satisfying, and thought-provoking conversation with myself, I bid farewell to my conscious and wait for my next day to come.