A little on melancholy, on a friday
I am feeling strangely melancholic. Despite today being a Friday. The day began with reading about MJ. I wanted to perk up, so made myself a hot mug of soup and went down to the park. I even pinged Scribbler telling her the sun was flooding in the park and was shouting out to me to come out. I went with the book, the only source of supreme pleasure, to me, at this point in time. But more on that book a little later. Let’s deal with this melancholy, first. Its not like me to feel this way on the fifth day of the week. Needless to say, it is horrifying me- I am slowly becoming of one of those wives, husbands dread coming home to. I think R would much rather make train trips all day long to escape my all day direct telecast of exaggerated and daramabaaz outbursts. Which makes me think- does he miss getting off the station deliberately or does he really lose track of time while playing Sudoku on his wretched Blackberry? He missed getting off our suburb station thrice, now. Three times can’t be because of Sudoku. Your wife and children should ideally excite you more than numbers, after all?
I digressed and how. Wasn’t I talking about the sun flooding in the park? So I went and barely had I finished my mug of pumpkin soup (I have a rare taste), the sun decided to give me the slip. Or maybe he wanted to play hide and seek? And I don’t like clouds- not the Sydney ones. I like white clouds- not grey ones, always threatening you, and making you scurry under trees , lest you get drenched. Much to the cloud’s delight, I did scurry home and was wondering why this happens- why one doesn’t get enough of what one wants? Sunlight, for starts. Am sure this has an answer which doesn’t sound as philosophical as the question does. Maybe, I should pursue it today. That should make my day feel less forlorn.
Duck it. I much rather curl under my sheets with the heater warming my feet and let ‘The Gruensey Literary and Potato Peel Society’, amuse me. What a delightful book. Haven’t read one like this in the longest time.
(PS: I can’t for my life of it understand why I pinged R these words:
me: ..why are men- black or white. why dont u like shades of grey?
why don’t u appreciate poetry, or melancholic women…much rather understand them
I wish there were some Wordsworth type of fellas left..I'd have gladly eloped with one of those kinds)
He is sure to miss getting off the train today.
Comments
As for your Friday blues...think of worse things, like Monday mornings or days without any phone calls/messages/comments/pings! You'll feel better. That's what I do...I shoo away depression by thinking of more depressing stuff!
I spent three years in Leeds, England, and survived as a husband "accompanying wife", while Kalpana was doing a PhD.
The way or trick to resist the blues or greys is not Wordsworth, though I love the poet too.
It is something mundane like having a make-believe timetable to stick to, during the day "as if you were working somewhere".
Once you get into your own self-created world of work, you'll be shocked how the depression, accompanying the blues or greys, vanishes.
How's the story-writing coming along? If not, a memoir?
And, "Yes!", all kinds of soup help.
Warm regards,
- Joe.
And when the sydney clouds threaten you, threaten them back, tell them you will send them to the sweltering heat of gurgaon, with power outages every 5 mins and houses which turn into furnaces :)
*ha ha*
And you'd be dead bored of a Wordsworth type... trust me!!! You could only have that for a while.. not forever!!!
Hey.. what are you complaining about... you've got lovely winter coming up... Plus you have summer months as well...
Here in Dubai... all I get is sunshine!!
@abhi: thats some threat!! hahaha!
@pat: Bang on! But i didn't know u lived in Dubai!
" your wife and children should ideally excite you more than numbers"..... well R has evolved very very fast... after a time in man's life the wife and child starts becoming just numbers as well... :P :P
Sarika