Joy so perfect that it breaks the heart
Parents came over this weekend and it was the most soaked-up, squishy happy time ever! Last couple of months have been very hectic at work. A major portion of that ended on Friday. So I came back home, free. Mentally and emotionally free. I wasn't tallying up work done versus work pending in my head, I wasn't jotting down to-do lists for officeand for home hurriedly as I scraped together time to complete the assignment. The project was done for the most part and Friday evening, when I left office, I left office.
Folks had started preparing dinner and I had a tasty dish of spring onions and thinly sliced potatoes stir-fried in mustard oil, mustard seeds, and a robust handful of spicy green chillies. I love onion and potato fry, especially with soft, white fragrant rice and yellow daal. And a smidgeon of pickle Ma had got from some niche store in Vashi.
Over the weekend, parents and I went to Inorbit. Mum and I had our nails done (mine look pretty now in cherry-red nailpaint and mom got tangerine.) My father...I don't know what he was doing in the one hour that we spent in the salon but he looked all happy and informed about all things pertaining to luggage when we met next.
We watched Aiyya, disliked great portions of it, loved Rani Mukherjee nevertheless, and came out feeling hungry. Parents tried the lunch buffet at the Inorbit mall (that comprised of dishes with many syllables and no taste) but I ate 3 donuts with coffee. I love donuts (so much so that, at this point, I have come to resemble one). I love the cute whimsy of its shape, the good, custard filling that spills out when you bite into it(like a baby's joy at seeing a balloon), or chocolate or vanilla cream smearing the fingertips - like smudges of something tell-tale when you've been sinful. I wonder if there is anything as happy-making as a freshly-made, tasty donut.
Anyway, my weight situation is a little worrisome but I hadn't started worrying about it until Isaw the ex-ce-llent pair of faux leather pants Ma bought me from Zara. So excellent in fact, that I mentally scratched off the large box of big donuts I'd planned to get that night. I again scratched the 'absolutely no donut' plan to 'not more than 2 donuts' plan. After much heaving and shoving, I squeezed into those pants though, and my legs looked like the legs of a person who'd run past a donut shop to grab the last piece of celery from a vegetable stall. They charge the big bucks for illusion.
This morning, though, the work week begins and my folks left really early. I was asleep then. But I woke up when I heard the car revving. It was too late, though. They'd left.
My home looked so gorgeous at six in the morning. It looked rested for two days of wholesome, sweet love. I sat in the balcony for a bit. Orange-candy stripes bent and moulded around mountain peaks in the distance. Patches of clear-blue sky floated around tree-tops. Not knowing what else to do, I took out my yoga mat and did a few stretches. Pune air has started getting a little nippy.
By the time I was done, the world had sunshine. Large slants of it peeped into my room. I threw open the curtains to let it in.
I then made myself a cup of tea and sat down to tell the world - that its important to exercise so that the heart gets strong. It's the only way it can hold in all the joy there is to be had.
Folks had started preparing dinner and I had a tasty dish of spring onions and thinly sliced potatoes stir-fried in mustard oil, mustard seeds, and a robust handful of spicy green chillies. I love onion and potato fry, especially with soft, white fragrant rice and yellow daal. And a smidgeon of pickle Ma had got from some niche store in Vashi.
Over the weekend, parents and I went to Inorbit. Mum and I had our nails done (mine look pretty now in cherry-red nailpaint and mom got tangerine.) My father...I don't know what he was doing in the one hour that we spent in the salon but he looked all happy and informed about all things pertaining to luggage when we met next.
We watched Aiyya, disliked great portions of it, loved Rani Mukherjee nevertheless, and came out feeling hungry. Parents tried the lunch buffet at the Inorbit mall (that comprised of dishes with many syllables and no taste) but I ate 3 donuts with coffee. I love donuts (so much so that, at this point, I have come to resemble one). I love the cute whimsy of its shape, the good, custard filling that spills out when you bite into it(like a baby's joy at seeing a balloon), or chocolate or vanilla cream smearing the fingertips - like smudges of something tell-tale when you've been sinful. I wonder if there is anything as happy-making as a freshly-made, tasty donut.
Anyway, my weight situation is a little worrisome but I hadn't started worrying about it until Isaw the ex-ce-llent pair of faux leather pants Ma bought me from Zara. So excellent in fact, that I mentally scratched off the large box of big donuts I'd planned to get that night. I again scratched the 'absolutely no donut' plan to 'not more than 2 donuts' plan. After much heaving and shoving, I squeezed into those pants though, and my legs looked like the legs of a person who'd run past a donut shop to grab the last piece of celery from a vegetable stall. They charge the big bucks for illusion.
This morning, though, the work week begins and my folks left really early. I was asleep then. But I woke up when I heard the car revving. It was too late, though. They'd left.
My home looked so gorgeous at six in the morning. It looked rested for two days of wholesome, sweet love. I sat in the balcony for a bit. Orange-candy stripes bent and moulded around mountain peaks in the distance. Patches of clear-blue sky floated around tree-tops. Not knowing what else to do, I took out my yoga mat and did a few stretches. Pune air has started getting a little nippy.
By the time I was done, the world had sunshine. Large slants of it peeped into my room. I threw open the curtains to let it in.
I then made myself a cup of tea and sat down to tell the world - that its important to exercise so that the heart gets strong. It's the only way it can hold in all the joy there is to be had.
Comments
Perhaps that's because of the colours you pack in towards the end. I don't quite know. I am just speculating...
You do remind me of Daphne Du Maurier. I love her 'Rebecca'.