Mornings are chaotic…they are stressful, laced with sudden crises, and bear a painful certainty that a velvety night is over…and a day looms...battle time…armory, weaponry, courage protected…long, raw, tiresome, and draining…yup, mornings are chaotic…uhhhmm…But, for the merriment of the early morning birds, who insist on conferencing right across my window… but for the melody of a raga …strains of which I catch from the neighboring house...but for the tender admonitions of my gentle mother, rousing me to the day…but for the crackle of the newspaper in my father’s gnarled hands…but for the strong, heady aroma of home ground, chicory coffee…but, sure…mornings are stressful…