At around 9:05am in the morning on a lazier day, less packed with work and meetings, right after K and the kids have gone to their respective work and school, I will take my mug of tea (occasionally it will be coffee, more for the smell than anything else) and wander around the house. I will twiddle a photo frame, tweak the table mat to its correct position, glance around at the room settings, mentally reshuffling pieces of furniture, running a finger over the console dusty from the Karachi night.
This sudden peace after a morning of noise, laughter and chaos to me represents that elusive me time people keep both over and under rating. It is a few moments of absolute quiet, no tangible thought, no immediate activity that help me collect the energy that will be require the minute the day jumpstarts into motion.
On cold Karachi mornings, my house will be freezing so I will be feeling more cosy as I tighten my wrap and hold my mug closer, watching the puffs of steam. In the summer, the heat will be starting to make the floor shimmer, and I will be able to hear the birds in full cacophony right outside the main balcony. Seasonal smells are different too. Winter has that burnt wood lingering in the air whereas summer will always be heavier, sweeter.
Usually I will walk around aimlessly, looking at the colours we have chosen for the house, appreciating how long its taken to make it look just the right amount of lived in. Other times I will be more restless, critical of the wear and tear, wondering where to start making the improvements. That sofa. No this wall.
I love such routines. Even if they are rare and not so routine, to me it represents a good start. A peace in heart kind moment. The domestic, mundane and wonderful definition of ordinary happiness. Without the fetterings of wordly aches. And today, exactly one year from the day we lost Baby Dot, it seems like a perfect day to let this last year filled unexpecteditties just go. Bye bye.