Sunday — 07 Rabi ul Awwal 1426 — 27 Caitra 1927 — 17 April 2005
Well, it is always a wonder to be present on a Sunday. Suddenly you are jarred into real life. While trying to forget the work week. While trying to forget the abnormal level of lunatic partying on Saturday night you are suddenly aware that there is such a commodity as time.
As is the case with every Sunday, my evil mother wakes me up at one and tells me that if I dont get up she will give my breakfast to the cat. The cat, by the way, is extremely pregnant. So much so that everyone at home realizes it and does not talk about it. Uncomfortable topics being left alone as a rule in this house.
Later on in the evening relatives drop by and we decide to gulp down gallons of tea while playing cards and talking against all those relatives who had not dropped by this week. The best thing about this situation is that since my mother has not allowed me to miss any Sunday, they never get to talk against me.
Ahhhhhh, Sundays are such fun days!
p.s – Excuse the last line. It was written in a rather peculiar state of mind.