Between Chaos and Chai: A Working Mom’s Morning

4th August 2025

I always imagined mornings to be calm, peaceful — a gentle start to a new day. But for working moms, mornings are often anything but that. They’re a whirlwind of chaos, urgency, and a never-ending to-do list.

Today was one of those mornings. No matter how hard I tried, something kept slipping through the cracks. Monday blues are real, but when combined with the mountain of tasks — packing lunchboxes, feeding kids, giving medicines, cleaning up — that blue quickly spirals into chaos. And as the clock keeps ticking, and you realize you're running late again, a quiet thought creeps in: What is all this for? Is it even worth it?

I often think back to my childhood in a small town, where mornings were an entirely different experience — full of warmth and meaning. Life lessons from elders, a steaming cup of chai, watching the sunrise, strolling in the garden, and plucking flowers for the morning puja. There was rhythm and grace to those hours.

Now, living in a metro surrounded by brick and mortar, I find myself missing that softness. I won’t entirely blame the city, though. I’ve never really been an early riser — and yet, waking up at 6:30 a.m. feels reasonable enough. So how did things get so hectic?

Despite the noise and rush, my heart still longs for quieter mornings — the kind where peace takes precedence over pace. As I sit and write this, I can't help but wonder if all this chaos is trying to tell me something.

Maybe... just maybe, it's time for a break.
Maybe it’s time for a vacation.

Being there but still not being there......

It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon, and I find myself sitting in my office — a place I didn’t expect to be today. Sundays are usually reserved for family, rest, and a break from the constant buzz of work. But sometimes, work calls, and you just can’t say no.

Lunch is done, and for the first time all day, I have a moment to breathe. As I sit here with my thoughts, I realize there’s a nagging feeling that’s been with me since morning — guilt. And it’s not just one kind of guilt; it’s layered and complex.

Is it the guilt of being at work on a day that should be spent with loved ones?
Or maybe it's because my daughter is unwell at home, and I’m not there to care for her.
Or is it because she has a unit test tomorrow, and I know she isn’t fully prepared — and I’m not there to help her revise?
Perhaps it’s because the house is in disarray, with dishes piling up and laundry waiting to be folded, while I’m here, sitting at a desk that should have been empty today.

As I try to sort through these emotions, a thought strikes me: even though I’m not physically present at home, my mind is completely there. I'm thinking of my daughter, my family, the tasks waiting for me. I’m here, yes — but my heart and thoughts are very much there.

That’s when it hit me: I am there, but still not there — and not there, but still there.

Life often pulls us in different directions, and on days like today, we are reminded of the delicate balance we try so hard to maintain between duty and devotion, between work and home.