The joy of weekends!!

As a kid, Friday was the most awaited day for me. Two art periods, One Mass P.T, one singing period and the rest quickly finished. End of the day, end of the week! The ride home was a joyride in its truest sense. The afternoon was spent making soap bubbles with a straw or bouncing the lone ball in the veranda, all the while spinning tales to myself, incessant dreams, unlimited horizons. There was nothing better than a Friday evening, it brought home tickets to a movie! Saturday was about tidying up the room in the morning after a nice breakfast of luchi torkari(puri/bhaji) followed by a walk to the library at the end of the street for a few comics and a thick book. the afternoon was spent sprawled on the bed or floor with this book, till dad was free to sit with me and all my school work of the week gone by. Homework done, doubts cleared, sums solved and I was free to go out to play. There was Rupal of course and our bikes, there was a play ground and a few other kids, and we played everything from 'house-house ' to 'catch me if you can'. Sunday was market day, this was my mother's favourite day of the week. She loves the market even today, and I have never liked it one bit, even now grocery and vegetable shopping is a necessary evil for me. So as my mom bent over the fresh veggies and fish and all those sneeze inducing spices, Baba and I sat in the parking lot, a safe, sneeze free distance away from the frenzied bazaar, talking about nothing important. Those ordinary Sunday afternoons spent talking unnecessary things are the most vivid images in my mind till date. Sunday evening was about gearing up for the week to follow, it was about polishing the shoes and ironing the uniform, packing the bag and sleeping early. Computers and video games were unheard of and Television was not a passion yet. Weekends meant outdoors, they meant friends, they meant books , and they meant a lot of time with Baba. I did not comprehend the word 'boring' then.

Now, weekends mean sleeping in late. waking up with a bored look. fighting over the remote control, some precious thoughts from the daughter as to why we cant have two TVs, like most of her friends do. There is some lecture from me on sundry topics and on the idiot box, which is promptly ignored by the daughter and vehemently responded to by the son, who in turn talks about his deprived life. A boy his age without play station or even a gameboy, he goes on till he feels the point is drilled in till the far end of my brain. A book glued to her face my daughter manages to eat what is put in front of her. My boy, happy with the end of lecture and his full control over the remote, eats too. Attempts at conversation are groggily responded to in monosyllables or largely ignored. There is no outdoors apart from the club swimming pool for them. There are malls and indoor games, there is coke and popcorn. There are endless phone calls, there are sentences that begin and end with the word 'boring'. There is a lot of solitary activity like sketching or playing the keyboard, there is also the usual homework and the crafts and the projects that need to be done. There are a few cuddles too and a few laughs, there is the phone call from the grandparents, that till now is more heartfelt than customary. I am sure kids today enjoy their weekends too, just that the perception of enjoyment has changed.