“Wake up! It’s 9:00 am!! Didn’t you want to go somewhere?!!”, my mom screams as she swooshes into my brother’s room like a tornado – picking up my brother’s clothes from the floor, sniffing at the mountain of clothes on the chair- foolproof way to decide which ones to wash, opening all windows and jerking our sleeping bodies. 

I still sleep in my brother’s room because I am invariably gifted at remembering every ghost’s face that I have seen in movies, at night. However, invading my brother’s bedspace comes with a list of favours, chores and free recharges to his phone number.  I can’t wait to get married to Mr.K to enjoy such security for free!

I sit upright in shock when the time my mom just screamed registers in my groggy brain. I squint at the clock trying to figure out the complicated needles & numbers.

7:45 am.

I really think my mother was taught to tell time in a different manner in school. The time she tells by looking at the clock is always an hour or two earlier than what is shown on the clock. She has been doing this all day, everyday, since we were born. Thank God we didn’t learn to tell time from her!

As always, sleep evades me when the mommy tornado passes – her purpose fulfilled. I poke my brother’s sleeping figure in jealousy, as I head over to the bathroom. He has found some miraculous way to escape the wrath of the tornado every morning!

Photo courtesy : Google