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A Sunday

December 8, 2008

 The day began like any other, until I opened my eyes. I found my brother lying by my side. He was breathing quick and turning sides. He shouldn’t be asleep, I decided. ‘Good Morning Bhaiyya’ slipped my mouth. I have been sleeping alone for so long now that I don’t remember the niceties to be told immediately after one wakes up, I always thought, mistakenly. ‘You woke up so early; why? sleep’ came in response, more like an authority. ‘No Bhaiyya, I wake up early’. Its 8:30AM. I didn’t feel the need to add that I usually wake up at 5:30. I was lazy that day. I snuggled closer to myself in the smelly blanket feeling warm. It was Sunday and I was preparing for a lazy day ahead. I will have my tea made ready along with Sunday magazine whenever I will feel like and this thought made me feel warmer still. My uncle was busy changing curtains on a window in the next room. I could see him going past my room mumbling to himself about something not being found in its right place. He looked upset that his things are always misplaced. He was hurrying around. My Aunt’s voice seemed to come from a distance. ‘You know I never touch any of your things. I hardly can manage to move things with my painful  backache but you always find things lost. Don’t blame me’. Her voice had the strange mix of ire and submission. ‘You always are jumpy on such days. I have been working since morning without much of a noise and you blow up the roof while you work’, she added. Bhaiyya was tossing on the bed by my side. He asked me, almost without thought this time, ‘So you wake up early, huh?’. I didn’t answer. He wouldn’t have noticed even if I did.

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