A 7-minute morning routine sounds like some American productivity-bro nonsense until you’re in Mumbai, the 7:10 local is your lifeline, and your brain is still buffering from last night’s late client call. Hi, that’s me right now—sitting cross-legged on my PG bed in Andheri, fan making that death-rattle sound, pressure cooker whistling downstairs like it’s personally offended. I’ve tried the 4 a.m. club (failed), the 20-minute yoga thing (fell asleep in shavasana), and the “just drink water” lie. Then I built this stupidly short routine that actually works when life is trying to murder you before coffee. Here it is, raw and unfiltered.
Minute 0–1: Alarm Off → Stand Up Immediately (No Snooze, No Negotiation)
I keep my phone across the room so I have to stand like a zombie to kill it. First win of the day. Studies say the snooze button murders willpower —I believe them because I’ve murdered entire mornings with 5-more-minutes.
Minute 1–2: 20 Jumping Jacks + 10 Deep Breaths (While the Water Heats)
Jumping jacks because they’re impossible to do half-heartedly. Ten loud breaths because my lungs still think it’s 2019 and Delhi pollution was a myth. Heart rate up, oxygen in, no equipment, no excuses. Done before the inverter beeps.
Minute 2–3: One Glass of Warm Water + “Today I Will Not Die” Mantra
No lemon (who has time to find a lemon at 7 AM in a PG?). Just warm water from the kettle I switched on while jumping. I literally say out loud: “Today I will not die in the office.” It’s dark humor, but it works. Hydration + commitment = adulting.
Minute 3–4: Outfit From the “Emergency Chair Pile”
I have a chair that’s basically a pre-decided outfit mountain. Whatever survived yesterday’s sweat gets worn again. Zero decision fatigue. Mark Zuckerberg vibes, but make it lower-middle-class Indian.
Minute 4–5: Face Splash + 10-Second Toothbrush Dance
Cold water slap (free wake-up call), toothbrush in mouth while I do the silliest shoulder shimmy known to mankind. My flatmates think I’ve lost it. They’re not wrong. But I’m smiling and blood is moving.
Minute 5–6: One-Line Plan in Phone Notes
Open Notes app → type the single most important thing today. Examples from my actual phone:
- “Send invoice before boss screams”
- “Don’t cry in standup”
- “Buy milk or survive on chai” One line. That’s it. The rest of the to-do list can wait till the train.
Minute 6–7: Grab Dabba, Wear Shoes, Leave Like You’re Being Chased
Shoes on while walking (life hack). Dabba in hand (thanks mom/aunty/Tiffin uncle). Door locked with one hand, earphones in the other, and I’m out. The second I step into the corridor I’m already playing my “train-catching pump-up playlist” (currently 2000s Bollywood item numbers—don’t judge, it works).
That’s it. Seven minutes from corpse to semi-functional human. No gratitude journal, no meditation app subscription, no “oil pulling” (sorry Baba Ramdev). Just movement, water, one decision, and pure survival energy.
I’ve been doing this exact 7-minute morning routine for 94 days straight (yes, I have a streak counter because I’m extra like that). Some days I’m still late, some days I forget the dabba, but I’m never the version of me that stayed in bed bargaining with the universe.
Try it tomorrow. Even if your morning is a warzone. Seven minutes. You literally have nothing to lose except your dignity (and you lost that years ago anyway).
