Every day is a new beginning. However, the days of my life begin in the same pathetic manner. Be it a weekend or a regular school day, the beginnings aren’t worth telling about.

Every day my ‘sweet dreams’ are interrupted when the alarm clock goes off, which is later accompanied by the ear piercing yells of my mother, warning me of the aftermath of being late for school.

But all goes in vain as I pull my blanket up to my face, turn a deaf ear to every sound that is bound to vibrate my eardrums and soon enough, I get carried away to my world of dreams. But it seems that the things that I hold dear and the moments I enjoy most are certainly hated by others, especially by my younger siblings. And so I am brought back to this world, not by decent means but in a way that I certainly detest. I nearly choke to death as one of my younger siblings jumps on top of me, the other mercilessly pulls the blanket off my face and the third starts shaking me vigorously till I, unwillingly, have to get up.

Half-awake and half-asleep, I make my way to the bathroom where I accidently get a chance to see myself in the mirror. There stands this girl who I certainly do not know; a girl with drooping eyes, a drooling mouth, swollen lips, tangled hair and a sweaty face.

Trying to ignore the painful fact that the mirror is unveiling the truth to me, I hurriedly wash my face, brush my teeth and start to put my uniform on… lo and behold, my duppatta is missing! I rush out of the bathroom, open my wardrobe, dump all its contents out on the floor and still I am unable to find it. I run here and there, dodging this and jumping over that. I look everywhere for it, come back to my room; drained and tired. My blood bubbles up with rage as I see the merciless thing lying on my bed, simply overlooked by me.

Half-awake and half-asleep, I make my way to the bathroom where I accidently get a chance to see myself in the mirror. There stands this girl who I certainly do not know; a girl with drooping eyes, a drooling mouth, swollen lips, tangled hair and a sweaty face

While I am trying in vain to suppress my anger, I jump when my mother suddenly shouts at me that there are only ten minutes left for my van to arrive. That is enough to set me off. I pace up and sprint to the table to have breakfast. I eat like an insatiable beast whose energy has been lost in all the running and chaos.

After having satisfied myself to the fullest, I start putting my socks on. I want to hit my head with whatever is within the reach of my hands as I realise that there’s a sock missing. Again, an unusual marathon begins. I run from one room to another and am knocked off my balance, landing on the ground, as one of my sibling sticks out her foot. This is when I lose my temper. I get up, my fists clenched, my ears fuming and I hit her.

The uncivilised soul punches me back and I realise that she wears my sock as a glove. I wildly take it off her hand, and yell with the full strength of my lungs.

But suddenly, I feel the heat of a stare, I look around and see my mother, hands on her waist, with my younger sibling’s head popping out from behind her. As the lecture starts, I hurriedly take my bag and shoot out of my house like a wild rabbit.

I nearly miss my van. An angry driver awaits my arrival with his usual list of complaints. Making faces, I squeeze myself between two girls as there is never a better place for me to sit.

Every day begins with this tiring and pathetic beginning. I feel pity for my poor soul when I finally get the time to settle down with my thoughts. May God have mercy upon me!

Published in Dawn, Young World July 8th, 2017