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Date: 30 October 2025
The morning doesn’t rush here.
It drips, like coffee from an old pot—
slow, fragrant, deliberate.
A cat stretches across the courtyard,
a radio hums in a kitchen somewhere,
and sunlight folds itself softly
over the rim of a cup.
I sit with my silence,
letting the world arrange itself again—
a leaf settling on water,
a thought remembering its way home.
Nothing grand happens.
And yet, everything does.
Because peace never arrives
with a parade—it tiptoes in,
finding you between sips and sighs,
when you are finally done
with yesterday’s noise.
So, here’s to mornings
that whisper instead of shout—
to small awakenings,
and the quiet cup that teaches
how to begin again.
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5
YouTube: @conversewithasmile
musingofrajat.wordpress.com 