It’s Friday and I am more than excited for Fridays from now on, as I am now blessed with 48 hours long weekends, a miracle that I had always wished for. Since moving in to this city and joining for work, I never had the kind of worth mentioning excitements and anticipations about weekends, as it was often as short as less than 24 hours of relief from work and tensions. The only luxury that I had was those very rarely happening Second Saturdays, those much anticipated days of the month. But after compensating for the weekdays that were lost due to those unanticipated hartals and strikes, what’s left would be less than 24 hours, and a long list of things to do, plus up and down travel to my home town. Time used to fly like a jet plane and in no time I would be back in office with piles of tasks to do.
But now that my weekends have become more than longer, happiness have grown manifolds, much more than what words can describe. The hours of silence that I craved for, the moments of calmness that I looked for, those relaxed afternoons that I wished for, those beautiful evenings when I wanted to take a stroll towards the park; finally they are all happening, though a little late in my life.
I’ve all these wonderful noisy girl pals in the hostel who go out together and make the whole city know that they’re out for fun and excitement. Whereas there would be this very calm and silent me who loves walks alone most of the times, enjoys watching people around, savour those much loved chaats and vada pavs from the close by eatery, find myself a calm and quit restaurant to sit and relax sipping a cup of filter coffee watching the massive downpour outside, curl up on my bed reading a good novel, spend some time in the library looking for worth reading book, sit on those wooden park benches and watch children playing in the park, enjoy the beauty of those reddish sunsets and cosy nights.
With no more addition for social networking, I am off the phase of being an internet junkie, and have started taking weekend time for many other worth doing things. So this week just want to rush home and be there for two days. It’s been two weeks since i haven’t been to my native place, and now, every nerve of my body is craving for the home ambience and comfortless that I haven’t had since the last two weeks. My home; a blissful house amid the busting town, a sanctified ambience with a temple, a church and a mosque on all the three sides, presence of my parents, the most wonderful human beings on earth – what more do I need to have a great weekend? The only person whom I keep missing is my sister who busy shaping her career in the garden city.
So if you ask me my plans for the weekend, after reaching home, I have nothing much to excite you, as I am mostly an indoor animal at home, and hardly goes out to sunlight. But this week I have an interesting book to read. A quick visit to the library yesterday and I managed to grab Shalimar The Clown by Salman Rushdie. Being an average reader, I was not sure how palatable the book is going to be, but after reading a few initial pages, I had to change my opinion, as it has completely gripped me with the great narration. So I may prefer staying indoors reading the book, with no one to interrupt, but for the smell of luscious cuisines from the kitchen. All the chit chats happen breakfast and lunch, and as usual I would be watched for being an avid foodie, as I’ve put on oodles of weight in the last two years.
Evenings are meant to indulge in my passion for crime serials, which has ‘matured’ itself from a habit to an addiction. Thanks to C.I.D and Sony T.V, which I’ve been watching since school time! The very stern A.C.P and his team has almost become the part and parcel of my life now, and so is Adalat and Ronit K.D.Pathak Roy, the clever lawyer protagonist. Then came Arjun, the super cop on Star Plus, and my joy knew no bounds. So I have more than a handful for the evening time. A plate full of hot Maggie noodles and I will be off to watch those crime stories unfold, along with munching lip-smacking Maggie noodles.