Woke up to a rainy Sunday morning, searched for my phone and checked the time.
I go back to sleep again.
Well, not exactly sleep, just tossing around in the bed for few more minutes. The thought of having a full day to myself and no office, makes me happy. I thank god for another new day and everything he has given me in this life. Lazily, I get out of the bed, brush my teeth and head to the kitchen downstairs to get my morning tea.
The caretaker of my PG is busy in the breakfast preparations. The tea is ready. I fill my cup and head back to my room.
The room is dimly lit and quiet except for the sound of the swiftly running ceiling fan. Reclining a little by the corner of my bed, I sip my morning tea. I cherish the stillness, the silence, the tea and my own company.
Though I am alone for most part of the day, but in these few minutes of silence I really am not thinking about anything and just being with myself. I like to think this is the favorite time of my day.
Luckily, the tea is good unlike the sugar syrup that bhaiya (brother, refers to PG Caretaker) usually serves on every other day. The pleasant weather cheers me up further.
Since it is a weekend and my friend has gone home, it means no visitors.
Cherishing my solitude further and munching on my breakfast sandwich, I grab my headphones, open the gaana.com app on my cellphone and start listening to songs. A good music is a must on a beautiful morning and especially a sunday.
I shuffle through the radio channels on my phone and settle down on Radiomirchi 98.3 Chandigarh. Post a random advertisement, a Punjabi song plays. I hadn’t heard it before, so decided to give it a try.
The first few lyrics said –
“Je hun yaari tutgi tan judni nayi (If the friendship turns sour this time, it can’t be mended again)
Tu ikk vari hor soch lae (Think once again)”
Wondering, why the radio people are playing sad and a break-up song on a fine morning, I switch the channel. As I am enjoying my ‘ME’ time, dad calls up, wish me good morning, advise me not to be a laggard and be up and about.
Heeding to my dad’s words, I decide I won’t waste my weekend and make the most of it. I will write and resuscitate my blog. I have been telling it to myself every day. It’s been quite a while I have written for myself. Honestly, I tried but the words wouldn’t flow. At times, I have been going through a whirlwind of emotions but when I tried to write, I couldn’t. Maybe, I wasn’t letting go off myself or trying too hard.
In fact, I had started to believe I can’t write anymore. I have often heard people saying that they write when they are most vulnerable or are going through the sad phases. Contrary to that, I find myself writing when I am at peace with myself. My creativity takes a dip when I am stressed.
“Never mind, I will definitely write today,” said I to myself. But before making a fresh start, I must take a bath.
11.00 am. I am ready.
I grab my favourite book by Ruskin Bond titled “Rain in the Mountains” to read and get some inspiration.
I sift through the pages of the book and the first paragraph in the prologue says –
“It is a good sound to read by – the rain outside, the quiet within – and, although tin roofs are given to springing unaccountable leaks, there is a feeling of being untouched by, and yet in touch with, the rain.”
Ah! The rain, a good book, a room of my own and a day to myself! Could I even ask for more?
I have been desperate to visit the hills this year but couldn’t make it. Had completely forgotten that Mr.Bond can help me reach there in a jiffy!
I listen to the sound of the whistling thrush, talk to Bijju and Binya, feel the monsoon mist, saunter through the mountain roads and have rest at the roadside teashop.
Back to my cottage and in my room, I didn’t realise when the cool weather and the mountain breeze puts me to sleep.
Woke up two hours later and cursed myself for not having written a single word. Where is my inspiration?
Well Mr.Bond had the beauty of nature, the barbets, the whistling thrush, and the hill folks to write about around him. What do I have around me? A waterlogged road to look at from the balcony of my room with not even a single child running the paper boat in the pool!
The cool wind and the gulmohar tree soothe me a little. Silently, I thank god that the construction folks haven’t cut down the gulmohar tree.
Deciding there is nothing I could do; I go back to my book and read a little more, sleep a little more, eat a little more and spend my day.
Realising that it is my friend’s birthday the next day, I write a birthday post for her and it clicks me, why don’t I write about ‘Nothing’.
So here I am writing about a Sunday spent doing nothing!
What a day! What a day! What a day!
Thankyou Mr. Bond, for breaking my writer’s block once again 🙂
2 thoughts on “All about nothing!”
Lovely! Indeed ‘paperboat’ is a drink today and not a boat. Very serene peace. Keep writing about Nothings. They are full of meanings.
‘Nothing’ holds so much. Wish we all have time for the ‘Nothing’ moment.