Happy Sunday

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty 

God, after naming his created wonders for six days made Sunday the Sabbath day for rest. For the Jews Saturday is Sabbath. If God needs rest after working for six days, we mortals ought to have everyday a rest day for we always feel restless in God’s wonderful creation where from sunrise to midnight we have to work for survival. But all workplaces, government and private corporate offices, give us Sunday for rest. This Sunday some call Happy Sunday for they can laze over the bed longer than in other days without rushing through morning ablutions and gulping some breakfast while buttoning shirts, answering phone calls and go out to catch a bus or to start the bike, car or cycle. The unlucky ones walk their miles to places of work mumbling curses on the traffic. Housewives, at times unbrushed and unteaed prepare breakfast and pack lunch boxes for their harried men without any complain although some shout- get some bread when you return; and yes don’t forget to bring my backache medicines...O’ he is beyond the gate now... Sunday is different.

No need to rise early. The morning cup can be sipped while reading the Times of India. An appointment for a massage and facial can be made. A visit to a few friends' houses and dine out programme are also a possibility. But so much of unfinished work, postponed to Sundays every weak day beckons like a hangman in wordless gestures. My dearest often wanted to visit the Mahakal temple with me as she is worried over my asthma. She never says so but I know why she wants me to visit Mahakal temple and perform a yajna. Every morning after she gets up, and she is always an early riser, she plays on her mobile Mahamritunjaya mantra much to my anger. But I do not express my anger ever in words. I understand why she does that. Her faith in astrology disturbs her routines. Even in sleep on most nights, she babbles. She spends most of her time in her Puja room. She works hard. Cooks for our children, our son and daughter. Washes clothes in the machine, telephones our family dhobi and gives him clothes for ironing. Collects her puja items and serves breakfast for me, our children. Picks up her fresh dress and enters the bathroom but comes out fresh in a trice to see me off at the gate. Prepares the kids for the school, both are in Sai Inter-National. The school bus starts at  8.50. She leaves them at the stop, about 100 meters away from our gate. Locks the front door and then sits for her breakfast. She was an athlete, a sprinter. But now she doesn’t find time even to go for a walk. She is putting on fat which does not burn in the household chores.

Today is Happy Sunday again. Last night she convinced me that I accompany her to Mahakal temple, just 30 kms away, a famous place for Shiva devotees. She has made all arrangements. The list given by the priest has been fully procured. Last evening she had gone with our driver Ram, to get things personally. The children too are eager to go on a outing, if not a family picnic. She had bought new smart dresses for them, shoes too. She is a great woman of taste. She is a good cook, a good housewife, a good lover but always apprehensive of something happening to me. She consults astrologers about my future. This yajna is their idea. Well, if a yajna reassures her, so be it. I wanted her to be happy and in good cheer. She has lost all her other interests. She used to paint. Not a mean painter. But she gave up all those things after the children were born. Constantly she thought of their education. Both Harish and Meena are good at studies. Both are smart and hard working. But my wife always is worried about this and that. Her smiles are rare, always a few lines appear on her forehead. I often ask why, why? She smiles away in mock pleasure O’ nothing – everything will be fine. God is there, nothing will happen. Well what are you worried about? Nothing. Life you know; living it is worrisome.

The driver came. Here are the flowers Madam, the 64 lilies, 128 lotuses, the incense...Ok, keep them in the car. We’ll start by 9. The puja will start exactly at 11 A.M. Why are you not dressed yet? Put on that dhoti and silk kurta I have kept on the bed. You’ll look more handsome. You wanted blue silk, blue it is. Go. I went to change my dress. The children were looking very smart in their new dress. She was clad in a white silk saree looking like a goddess. Her long open hair was once thick, now not so thick, yet she looked younger and elegant.

I came out from the bed room. She looked at me with glowing eyes. She was happy to see me in my exotic handsomeness. Well let’s move I said. She held my hands. I called the children nearer. I held them and we moved. We crossed the threshold and I brought out tickets for a film show. Children and my dearest- morning show, lunch at Meridian and then a drive to Mahakal for darshan. Happy Sunday dearest - No yajna is superior to the yajna of living together- come. She finally laughed- Happy Sunday at last!