Those were the times. I’d get up flustered, cursing at the watch for showing me that I was late, yet again, for my morning workout. Breakfast would usually be a sandwich on the go as I’d juggle tying my shoelaces and my hair at the same time, elbowing my way through crowds to secure that coveted empty seat in the metro. And now, I need no alarms to wake me up. Mornings are made of warm cups of tea, steam wafting through my window as I wait. I wait, staring out my window, waiting for the lady next door to wave back.

Illustrated by: @scribblinallday

Image by: @aparuparoy

Location: Kolkata