I wake up at 4:30 in the morning and rummage around for a phone who’s alarm never went off. I’m an hour early. I have a thin smile thinking that my subconscious didn’t want me to miss training today. I turn and get some sleep.

An hour later I’m up. I hit the scales while finding my spectacles. (I’m watching my weight a little cautiously)
A quick check on the messages and I weave my way to the kitchen.

My mom is, as always, shocked to see me. The frenzy she gets into when she realises that I might not get a full breakfast is simply cute. I get some milk ready for cereal. By the time I’m done with my wash, I have a bowl of cereal, fresh fruit, a packed box of nuts and a banana to-go on the table.

Mom is furtive though. Then she steps out and says – “kaustubh,  how much time do you have? I can make some cutlets.” When I shake my head, she asks when I’ll be back and what will happen to her cutlets.

Dad is usually up just in time to ask about my day. And what time I’ll be back. Having asked me to call it a night at 12, he ignores my limited rest, for now. Somehow they never fail to ask me to be careful. Today it was about the local train.

And so, I’m off to practice. My team sport. Knowing fully well I have the best team one could ask for.