It's getting late

It was just another Saturday morning and he was already late for his first day at the gym. He rushed to the bathroom and got ready in less than 10 minutes and walked out of the bathroom with water dripping from the hair near his forehead. Looking for the towel while walking towards the cupboard to change to a more comfortable cotton pant and t-shirt. Pulled out a soft towel and rolled it so that it fits in his pant pocket. It was never too late for him when it came to combing his hair. Spent a few couple minutes more than what he took at the bathroom, walking few steps backwards, still gazing at the mirror and already bending his arms and giving a challenging look at Ronnie Coleman's poster above the mirror. Picked up his wallet and walked towards the front door. His mom had already kept the protein mix ready on the table and it was hot. He didn't want to miss his morning dose of energy drink, but he knew his friend would be coming any moment honking outside his home. After all his friend was also late, but who likes being accused to be the reason at the end? He eagerly peeped outside the front door and found his friend was not there yet. Sighing in relief, he took the glass and walked past the front door, greeted by the gentle breeze of air over his face. The breeze was a little cold because his face was still drying. He sipped through the drink while listening to the oscillating wave of song heard from a far away Bhuvaneshwari Amman temple. He always admired the early morning silence with mild breeze, accompanied by the chirping of birds and the bell of the newspaper man at the corner of the street. Things were not the same a few years back when he used to wake up early in the morning and pulled out a  book to prepare for the exams. The sight of darkness outside the window, when everyone in the home were still asleep and he was the only one getting ready to perform the most annoying task of studying for the exams to be given later that day. He didn't even want to think about it now because it gave a bitter taste in his throat, just like a fever tablet stuck in the throat without enough water to swallow. 

While he's still a student,  but now in the final semester of his bachelor's, doing his project and preparing for campus interviews. He knew he still had to do his master's before getting into a job, but wanted to gain some experience with interviews. He had all the time in this world to enjoy the hidden beauty of early morning scenes, even when he knew it was already getting late for the gym. He was enjoying the delay because he can now point fingers at his friend for being late to pick him up on his way to the gym. The gentle silence of the scene was broken when his mom shouted from the kitchen "seekram ulla va, school bus vara time aachu". The very first page of his history book had sent him to the dream he always wanted to live in. Knowing he hadn't prepare enough for the exam and at the same time realizing it was just mid term, he slowly walked into the house gulping the glass of water he was holding in his hand, trying to wipe the bitterness in his throat, he stared at the political map stuck above the mirror.