A Sunday to Savour

I am not very fond of Sundays. They are the precursors to Monday blues. That is more than enough reason to not like the day God deemed for rest.

But today was different. I do not know how exactly that happened. Yet it did.

Last night when I went off to sleep, I was not particularly looking forward to today – a Sunday. I generally hate going out on this day but today I had to. To exercise my fundamental right. To vote in the city civic elections.

I do not vote in the area I currently live in. I am registered in the electoral roll of my grandparents’ locality. So are my parents and siblings.

It was an exceptionally hot day and we set out around 11 a.m. to vote. Quite surprisingly, we found no long line in front of our allotted booth. We were in and out within minutes. I should have seen that as an omen. A good omen.

Rights exercised, we walked the short distance to my grandparents’ place. I had spent the first sixteen years of my life here before we had to shift due to space constraints. My uncle, aunt and cousins still live here along with my grandparents who are currently out of town. To us, this small first floor apartment with its cramped rooms is home still. “Ghar” is what we still call it.

We had lunch at “Ghar”. My aunt had prepared a veritable feast. Nothing too fancy, mind you. Just simple, traditional Indian “ghar ka khana”. And it was delicious. I overate and those who know me would see this as a rarity.

We spent some time after that cooped in my uncle and aunt’s small bedroom, watching TV. The channels alternated between the vernacular news channels that my dad is addicted to and the sports channel that was beaming the latest cricket match featuring the ‘Men in Blue’. There were jokes cracked, legs pulled, mobile phone cameras engaged till one by one we drifted off to sleep.

Twilight saw an impromptu cricket match being played and tea and lemonade being devoured before we set off for home. My parents stayed back to attend a wedding. My siblings and I returned home and spent the evening watching India romp home to victory, demolishing pizza, Maggi and garlic bread with cold coffee and ice cream.

I am rounding off my day with a Jodi Picoult novel and a single eye and ear on ‘Wake Up Sid’, which my brother wants to watch. And I have been continuously humming ‘Iktara’.

It has been such a wonderful day. Simple, with no single stand out moment. There were no special memories that happened. There were no ecstatic crests and no depressing lows. Yet it was a Sunday that I savoured and I would remember. For a long time to come. Perhaps forever. Especially because it was an unexpected gift.

And who says all surprises have to be jaw dropping. Sometimes, they just sneak up on you and leave you with a warm, soft, lovely feeling. It is called contentment. I have it. For now.

Good night.