The soire'e

Last Friday a train carried me home. This week another one will ferry me back. What will remain is another foot print on the canvas of my life.

I am now standing exactly in the middle of my vacation. Confused if I should be happy that there is still half to go or sad that half of it is over. Nothing new though. I am always confused. I tend to look both sides on a one way street!

So what did I do? I did something I have always been good at – nothing. It takes a lot of training to do nothing. I have perfected the art to a T.

I just sat in the living room enjoying everyone playfully fighting over what to watch on the TV. Just absorbing the sights and sounds.. Hogging all the green veggies that I have missed. Mom was a great cook. Her USP was the simplicity of food. No elaborate spices. No heavy garnishing. The vegetables would still retain their original flavor. She is no more. But the tradition still continues.

Some times silence is more eloquent and more meaningful than a thousand words. We sat many a times simply enjoying each others company. If I look back I could have saved myself many blushes by just being quiet. But each has his own special talents. Mine is making an ass of myself. I remember the character played by the old time comedian who is tutored in social etiquettes and ends up asking ladies if they are married and even when a lady says she is single pops the next question – “Oh great. So how many kids do you have!”

The writer copied me but robbed me of my royalty.

Yesterday morning we were returning by road. I saw one of the most breathtaking sights. There was nothing between us and the horizon as the sun rose slowly, blushing like a newly wed bride, all crimson and round. The landscape ,deep emerald green complemented it beautifully. I was so moved I wanted to cry!

We stopped by a road side dhaba. A wedding party had taken a break. Their enthusiasm was infectious. I would have been rubbing my butt if I had traveled in that tractor. But not these beautiful people. They seemed oblivious of the discomfort and were happily chattering. The dhaba owner looked at me strangely as I requested him for a black tea.

Today I watched lazily as the golden ray of sunlight sneaked into my room. That is rare.

In Hyderabad it’s all a rush. We wake up long before the sun rises. My sister brought me the morning tea. Its my first tea in bed after a long time. Being single I can’t afford that luxury.

The delightful irony. I took some time to adjust to the cacophony of a metropolis after the serenity of Miami. Now I am again struggling to cope with the absolute silence of my brothers new beautiful duplex home. Next week I will have to again get used to the morning commotion as it would be time to go back to Hyderabad. The mad mornings, rudely waking to the shrill whistles of dozens of pressure cookers, the milk man and the paper boy noisily delivering their stuff, mundane noises smothering the pure and soothing bhajans of MS Subbalakshmi.

Last night I slept late. Since I don’t wear a watch nor keep a mobile it was difficult to gauge the time. I peeped out of the window. There’s a large lake behind the house. The city lights reflected in the calm water. The reflection looked frozen as there was no movement in the calm water. This was a symphony for the soul. The sounds of silence, the frozen lake, the still time, I felt like a king.

I am enjoying till it lasts. All beautiful things must come to an end. So will this soiree.