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.
”
