I've loved these days

A good Sunday is one that starts with a benign hangover. Like today. I woke up with a dull head full of bad beer. Been to a wrong kind of party last evening, where the tandoori chicken was cold and the beer was lukewarm. The dance floor, it had all manners of riffraff thrown into a 30'x 30' space. There, you get the picture, so I won't dwell on it.

As a result of which, this morning. Has anybody ever tried swimming to cure a hangover? In my case it was less an act of experimentation and more of compulsion. My ten-year-old dragged me to the pool. Given that I'm a swimmer of repute and my jig involves covering the breadth of the pool on the shallower side swiftly with clumsy strokes, (never get into more than five feet of water, that's the secret of my long and successful career) I thought the water that usually gets in my nose should clear out the old sinus and take care of the heavy head. It didn't exactly turn out that way, but the idea should not be written off. I'd recommend more trials of the method, when need arises.

Coming back to this here Sunday. A Sunday morning should be ideally spent doing nothing. Now, doing nothing is serious stuff, never to be underestimated. Within permissible limits, one can watch television, preferably off news related programming. One can casually read the Sunday papers, without much attention and comprehension. Reading a book would be an automatic disqualifier. My brand of doing nothing involves something like watching the daughter play Dinner Dash 2 from a distance while trying to read a Sunday supplement and advising her on strategy to cross level 12. Top that.

A school buddy calls long distance. No, make them two. One calls, the other speaks. Rajib the hot shot consultant, has been given a Blackberry by his firm, Indranil the pathologist reports on the said berry. (Actually these buggers are in a Sunday adda session with other friends, in another school buddy's smallish flat. Six-seven grown up people, who get endless rounds of tea and fries from the hostess without gratitude. They openly criticize her cooking. Seema, with amazing grace, never gets mad. She just threatens murder sometimes. These lucky sods! There had been times when I got up early on a Sunday and drove 300 Kilometers to join them.)

I've never really wanted a Blackberry myself , but these are moments to be properly envious and sarcastic, so I manage "A black berry at his age? Let's see, so how many years to go before he gets the blue berry? And the red ?" Rajib : "Very funny. Now store this number on your strawberry, for it will be my number as long as I stay with PWC." Me : " Until you move up to PWD?" Sweet badinage. Round one, a tie.

On a beautiful decadent morning like this, I hear Billy Joel.

Like only he can write :

We light our lamps for atmosphere,
And hang our hopes on chandeliers.
We're going wrong, we're gaining weight,
We're sleeping long and far too late.
And so it's time to change our ways …
But I've loved these days.

(Yawn)..Sleepy again after breakfast. See you after this nap.

P.S. In other news, I've finished Namesake in a record nine months time. Now I've started 3 mistakes which I hear is a real page-turner, so I hope to finish it in a month or two. People have writer's block. I got a reader's block.
P.S 2. Oh that Vodka, I forgot. Great drink. Recommended by a great man. Ooh, I am smelling apples already. Time to fix me an Applebottom Pimp before lunch.