Stolen Sundays !!

Most Sunday mornings start the same way for me. I sleep in until 8:30 AM—late by my usual standards, given that I'm up by 6:30 on weekdays. Then I freshen up, brew myself a hot cuppa coffee and sit by the windows in the living room letting the soft sunlight spill over me. Next, I call my parents and speak to them leisurely unlike the rest of weekday mornings where I’m scrambling on these calls. Then I make breakfast… it’s usually a toss up between idli/dosa/sambar and poori/aloo. By then Vinod is back from the gym and Saanvi has just woken up and sauntered downstairs. We have a family breakfast and then all of us get on our phones like our life depends on it. 

An hour or so passes and then Vinod and Saanvi get ready and leave for her dance class. This is my me time. I shower, get ready and put on some music… really depends on the mood. Anything from Ghulam Ali to Arijit Singh and from Frank Sinatra to Adele. 70s Bollywood is a hot favorite. As the music plays, the world outside begins to fade. The chatter in my head softens into actual conversation—with myself.

Sometimes it’s about the week ahead, the people I need to reach out to, things I want to accomplish. Other times it's just pure emotion: joy, anticipation, anxiety, love. I marvel at how full of passion and clarity my inner voice can be. But occasionally into those fleeting moments of lucidity, creeps in self doubt, uncertainty and apprehension. That’s when I hear Frank Sinatra on the bluetooth going: 

“Some day, when I'm awfully low,

When the world is cold,

I will feel a glow just thinking of you,

And the way you look tonight.”

And just like that, everything is okay again. By then, lunch is almost ready. Steaming hot rice, bagara baingan and tindora fry. Cooking is both therapeutic and cathartic. As I wipe down the counters and hang up the kitchen towel, I hear the familiar rumble of the garage door. They’re back. Archie barks, tail wagging, announcing their arrival. That draws a curtain on my musings, my solace and my musical transcendence. “Earth to Swapna” the universe seems to say and I snap back to the chaos of the day. Once Saanvi leaves for college next year, our routines will shift and change and I’ll have a sea of time on my hands. But I will forever cherish the memory of these stolen moments and private rendezvous with myself 😍😀