How is it that a long weekend at home can be nicer than a beach holiday?
It started out as a normal weekend day, enhanced with the realisation that it was the beginning of a longer weekend than usual. Having promised to give ourselves lots of rest, we went to sleep in the afternoon after watching Ice Age on DVD.
When I got up, something was different. The hot summer day had changed into a lovely cloudy day with cool breezes blowing. It was such lovely weather that we had to go out, and we did, without knowing where we were going. We executed normally cumbersome errands with pleasure: the sheer pleasure of being out in such weather. We drove around endlessly, talking incessantly. The flow of conversation was uninterrupted even after we got home; interrupted only when I insisted I was hungry and we moved to the kitchen to cook dinner.
We watched a bit of the Amitabh Bachchan starrer Don on TV, and I was impressed by the man’s performance (especially as I’ve never been much of a fan). And then we ate, and talked, and went to bed early.
But couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the nap we’d taken earlier, or some magic in the night… I was too restless to stay in bed and got up to play Age of Empires on the laptop. The Guy relaxed with a book I chose for him. Two hours later, we finally decided to sleep. And soon changed our minds.
It was after 3 a.m. when we got up to have Maggi noodles and watch a Hitchcock DVD. (And what is it that nothing other than Maggi is nearly as satisfying as a midnight - or early morning - snack?) The movie was somewhat disappointing, but still interesting enough for us to watch till the end.
It was about 6 a.m. when we finally went to bed, and the sky was infused with a dull red glow.
Why does it feel adventurous and youthful to have been up all night?
And is that why I wasn’t very perturbed when the Guy triumphantly discovered my first grey hair as soon as I got up in the morning?