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La Belle Dame Sans Merci

January 26, 2009

Another weekend is at an end. Weekend’s are the best time to laze around, aren’t they? The rest of the week one has obligations; one needs to keep oneself busy. Profession is a boon to a man, indeed, and he can do without it once a week.

Boston is getting warmer now. Its -7degrees celsius only. One gets used to such kind of numbers over a period of time. A few days ago the temperature fell to -25degrees. Phew! Then it snowed terribly last weekend. Its up now to -7. One gets used to kind numbers over a period of time.

It was sunny this weekend. There is nothing like lazing around in the warm sun on a saturday morning with a hot coffee cupped in your hands. So, I decided I will sit in the sunshine. But the ‘kind numbers’ wont let me. In Boston’s winter the Sun is only for lighting. Its a decoration. Street-lights need rest in the morning and Sun takes its place. There is no warmth in the sun. I open the curtain off the big french windows and let in the sunshine through the glass pane onto my sofa. The heater (in the room) is at its warmest, the sunshine at its brightest. Lying on my sofa, I let the bright flow of sunshine seep through my drooping eyelids. I try to keep them open. They close against my will. I can feel the river of sunshine flow through my body to the ends of my fingers and my toes. With each breath I feel one with my surroundings. I feel I am alive.

Now that its getting warmer I see all birds are out of hibernation. I noticed a flock of beautiful brown birds perched atop the dry branches of the tree. Its been awhile since I saw birds around. The other day I remember the Cab-Driver expressing disappointment that his bird feeder hadnt had birds for several days. He blamed the winter. Winters are, he says, very expensive when it comes to paying for the electricity. Winters are, he adds, devoid of life. Usually in Literature, Snowy winters symbolize death. When I said how excited I was experiencing my first snow and how I will remember this winter for a long time to come he agreed it is the same with all the Tourists. They take back fond memories of this place. But the natives of this place know how bad a winter can be. Winters are like a beautiful lady, he remarked, with a bad personality. You dont want to be enchanted by it. Aah, I found my ‘La belle dame sans merci‘!

A lazy person should never be asked the advantages of being lazy. He might be too lazy to answer. If I had to get up from the sofa I was lounging on earlier for the sun it was only because the thought of omelette bothered me too much. I had to eat. I quickly heated the pan, poured some oil on it, had two eggs splashed on the pan, sprinkled salt and pepper and waited for the familiar aroma of the omelette. The delight of eating an omelette is, I believe, partly in the aroma of it while it is still in the making. I had a toasted bread-omelette with a large glass of warm milk.

I fell back on the sofa in the sunshine with a book ‘The Comedians’ by Graham Greene. I could read only two pages before falling asleep. I dreamt I was Alice lost in the wonderland. I had rushed out into the garden at the back of my house. Amidst the snow I find a huge pit where I peep into the dark. Next scene I am inside the pit fighting ants and loads of food placed in-front of me. I continue to sleep for some more time. When I opened my eyes to darkness after an indefinite time, my nose sniffed the old pages of the novel that I had covered my face with before I fell alseep. Blissful weekend! How time flies; I never knew how Sunday too went by. Weekend is at an end, alas!

My roommate returned from a busy and fun-filled weekend with his friends. He returned to the house only unwillingly on Sunday night. He had, of course, loads to tell about his excursions and I was all ears. When it was his turn to ask I had nothing to say. Will he understand when I say I relished a pepper omelette and had warm milk, bathed in sunshine, felt one with nature, watched birds, fell asleep in the sun, watched back episodes of Perry Mason, The Monk, CSI? He only had to smile when I said that. Did I notice derision in his smile? Do I care?

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. Pooja permalink
    January 27, 2009 3:11 pm

    You should try you hand at making cheese omelette.

  2. January 31, 2009 1:24 pm

    Le bel homme sans merci!

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