"you'd better tell his majesty that many people nowadays like marmalade instead"

i love breakfasts. sunshine filled mornings on the front lawn, sitting on wicker chairs, with a table laden with fresh fruits and thick round sausages bursting at the seams, and poached eggs, and lichies and cream, and mutton chops, and cold milk cereals, and liver fry, and toast with the butter having melted right in. (aah, to eat your fill, and just lay down and die there.)

yeah, i completely, totally, irrevocably (is that declaration enough, doubting thomases?) love breakfasts. thing is, i can just never do them.

not that i haven't tried. (god, how i've tried). i've set alarms. i've called up friends in the dead of the night to inctice them to meet me for breakfast the following day (and yes, wake me up for it). i've gone to sleep thinking of sausages and bacon and eggs or pancakes with maple syrup or even croissants. but to no avail. sure as the day is sunny (with possibilities of mild rain), i wake up at ten-0-clock, rush into the bathroom, rush out of the bathroom, rush to office, rush to the coffee machine, rush outside with coffee to have a smoke, rush back in and start working.

as you can see, my morning schedule leaves very little time for breakfast. unless i plan to eat on the run.

but it wasn't always like this. when i was littler, i DID breakfasts. i'll skip over the details of breakfast at boarding school (though i shovelled that down my throat, too), which like all boarding school breakfasts was totally tasteless while having all the nutrients necessary for growing children (or such like). but breakfast at home (see first para) was divine. there's no other word for it. it was my first thoroughly orgasmic experience, when i still didn't know what an orgasm was. sure i hated waking up in the morning for it (especially since i was on holiday) and sure i never understood why the whole family had to have breakfast together, just because my dad deemed it so, and sure i didn't enjoy it as much, because it was the norm at home...but hell, it was great and what i wouldn't do (apart from going back home for a holiday) for a breakfast spread like that.

now breakfast is a distant dream. to be worshipped from afar (which helps me retain my love for it). to be had only if and when you don't end up going to bed at all, on a given night or if a fanciful lover takes it upon him/her to serve you the meal (take a minute to till your head to one side and say "aaah").

i miss it. and so (in a rare, pro-active moment) i've decided to introduce it back in my life. for the sake of my future children and my future childrens children, who otherwise might grow up (if we haven't obliterated the world, ie) never knowing what breakfast is. so today onwards, my new motto is, "take back the morning".

i shall henceforth endeavour to wake up every morning. early (but not too). just early enough to take back the morning. and i shall do this, not just for me, but for breakfast lovers everywhere (who have witnessed the demise of their favourite meal). for hedonists (for whom this has become a forgotten pleasure). for lovers (because breakfast after sex is a great way to start your day. who am i kidding? just sex is a great way to start your day). so no, not lovers, children instead, who will grow up to reject their coffee for a good old fashioned breakfast.

and you my dear readers, can join the movement too. if you are in the neighbourhood, lets meet for breakfast.