Evenings and Achilles

Regular evenings for me are :

1) Tired
OR
2) Especially tired

For evenings that leave me tired, all that I wanna do is rush back home, take a shower, enjoy the delicious silence around, read a book and craaaaaaash !!!
“Being with myself ,” I ceremoniously call it.

For evenings that leave me especially tired, I elbow my way through an almost impenetrable mass and matter of irritated people, get down at a certain stop , count my slow steps, climb up an ancient flight of stairs, press the bell with the weary tip of my exhausted finger…and see my MOM.
“ Fleeing from myself,” I grudgingly admit.

Yess! End of such days, it’s all about returning. Our days and our lives have real smart ways of battering us, beating us black and blue, reducing us to a lovely smooooth mango pulp !!! And, however much you may enjoy the bumpy ride, it’s nice, u see, to return to somebody, who unconditionally takes you… and also takes it from you. Someone who surprisingly still somehow manages to be there for a seasonally disgusting “you”.

The funny old Gullu has a nice way of putting it. I tell her I am going to my mom’s place. She tells me I am hungry. And as I drag my Achilles' heels up the stairs, I know she is right. I can smell food…and I can smell “waiting”.

And as the old city skyline changes , becomes more fickle and even more bricksome, all that makes life worth is the thought that mothers (and some predictable rare others ) somewhere keep waiting for you . Returning to that person, remains your only compulsion and your only choice.

And somewhere you know that you are the “luckier one”. So before you start cribbing again…Chuck the day, Dump your baggage and ENJOY the attention :)