As a child, Sunday meant so much! From no bath in the morning to Mummy struggling in the kitchen doling out crisp masala dosas and a leisurely breakfast eaten off a plate and not from a tiffin box. Papa devouring two newspapers over endless supply of tea followed by Papa’s quick jaunt to the barber’s then our mutton shop for the best cuts. A sumptuous lunch would be laid out comprising of Puri,Pulao and Mutton curry with its usual accompaniments of Raita, Greens and then home made ice-cream or kulfi to round up the fair.
Sunday meant not to be found anywhere close to your own house. Safest place to play was a friend’s grandparents’ place as love and forgiveness was found aplenty in those premises. Dinner was always at a restaurant or Indian fast food joint, that too after a movie at the Elphinstone or Mona.We went home with a satiated feeling of ‘a day well spent.’ This was my life in Patna in the days of yore.
I try to keep up with the same tradition of a Sunday well spent.I guess, almost all of us do. But it is no smooth sailing Sundays anymore. No movie tickets available unless you have presumed everyone’s availability and done online advance booking. Hubby dear finds it abominable to go for fresh cuts from the mutton shop as unhygienic conditions, the bleating and all else get to him.So,frozen it is.Sweets or ice-creams are again off the rack stuff that too under my hawk eyes! Then on Saturday evening, we ready ourselves for the customary call. My house help usually develops joint pain and calls in sick for Sunday.
Accepted, resignedly but nonetheless in full solidarity of common sisterhood; she too might have a Sunday treat to do.