NYAC | 3min Read
Published on May 7, 2026
Break of Dawn
Break of Dawn
Eyes in search of an omnipresent God, his wandering irises rested upon the storm clouds that had obscured the sun—though the stubborn sun refused to fade out completely. Not much further, people hurried out of buildings to get home as soon as possible—a storm was coming. Ever since the cancer patient had been admitted in the hospital, the break of dawn seemed more subtle, as if the adamant darkness refused to leave and rubbed its gloom on the dawn. The flowers seemed to droop as he approached and the dense clouds cried the tears that dried out his eyes each night. Quietly, the nurse approached him and politely asked him to rest. It was late now, and he must be tired. So yet again, he wheeled himself to the bed where he had spent the majority of his stay. A wide assortment of cards and notes lay on the stool towards his left, though he hadn’t had the energy to open even one of them.
The nurse offered to tuck him in and—staring listlessly into her painted eyes, he saw not warmth but pity, mounds of it. He saw it in everyone’s eyes these days, the visitors, the doctors, his friends, his mother and even his own eyes as he stared into the mirror in the morning. His days were spent gazing out the window, where each day a new sight engaged him. The window pane was crawling with ants that ate away at an insensate cockroach bit-by-bit. Cars zoomed across the road, as he wished they would take his thoughts with them too—far away from him. Life is a peculiar collection of events—some events end abruptly, and life along with them.
The other stretch relatively longer, but the worst of all are the instances where each moment is spent wondering if, with the next breath—he too would cease to exist.
He did not stand to lose much, for there existed no lover of his who loved him back, nor any friend who reciprocated his feelings of care. His father was long gone, and his relationship with his mother was strained. The world would not stand to lose much either. Only the one who knelt in the temple, wishing for his good health would crumble and bawl and the ones who wished his plight unto themselves would moan and curse their luck. For, despite his ignorance, there were numerous who cherished him. The sky itself wept for his pain, and the trees bent with the weight of emotions he buried deep as he painted a brave look for the world to see. He awoke suddenly, one morning—to a ray of sunshine. The sky had cleared up overnight and the clouds that had not budged for the past week vanished so as they had never existed. The nurse wept now, tears of joy. His faith in God hadbeen lifted years ago and he was not a believer of miracles but perhaps someone’s prayer had been answered, someone’s plea had been heard. Humans are strange creatures, holding on to hope even as their life breaks apart before their eyes.
Sometimes, their faith is tested, promises are broken and tears are spilt but the other part is magical, miraculous. Hope brings back a man from the mouth of death, a man who is oblivious of the fact that he is loved.
***
“Before you know it, it will already be dawn; and all your pain and sadness with the night will be gone.”
