A Sunday Morning That Didn't Last

It was one of those Sunday mornings that actually feel like a Sunday morning. My life is not filled with too many of those of late, you see. So, when a Sunday morning does feel like one - I appreciate it. More usually than not, I appreciate it by sleeping. At odd angles. And walk around the rest of the Sunday with a cramped neck, or hand, or shoulder, you get the drift.

So, yesterday morning was one of those Sunday mornings. I was fast asleep and my body had subconsciously decided to cramp the neck. Hence, I was lying in an angle suitable to that purpose. My phone rang, woke my roomie up, woke up the domestic help akka four floors below, woke up a sleeping dog in Parkala and subsequently woke me up. It was A.

A: "Morning, did I wake you up? Hey, what say, beach?"

Self: "Ummmm."

A: "Listen, its 6.30 now, so if you leave in, say, fifteen minutes, we can go to Virgin Beach. It'll be awesome. The weather's great. Sexy drive. Remember I told you yesterday that I wanted to go?"

Self: "Ummm. Huh? Whaaa?"

A: "Beach. Virgin. Now. Told Yesterday." (A's skills of summarising have developed strongly since I came along.)

Self: "Oh, ha ha. Okay okay."

A: "We can also drop into Cosmos Cafe for the English Breakfast after that."

Self : "Okay, okay. Mmmm"

A : "So, 10 minutes? okay, 15? We'll leave?"

Self: "20."

A: "Okay. 20, okay. Bye. Don't get late, okay. Bye."

Self: "Okay." (Mmmm.)

I dragged myself out. Put myself into something sporty. Took out those nice sneakers that I hadn't used since I came to Manipal. I am a democratic person. But I strongly don't support a fungal colony growing inside my sneakers. I had shown my non-support by not letting my sneakers get wet. Here, you see, at this time of the year, the mere fact of existing was qualification enough to get drenched. Every single day. But it surprisingly hadn't rained for past two weeks and I decided I could risk the sneakers out of their cozy dry hiding place.

So, we left after 30 minutes. We drove cheerfully up to the tip of the hill, stopped at China Valley restaurant and looked towards the ocean. We noted that the sky in the general direction of the ocean looked morbidly black. We also noted that all cars/people coming from that general direction were drenched. We scientifically concluded that we should not go towards the ocean. We then went on to intelligently decide to go to the nearby End Point and trek down all the way to the Suvarna river. Even as I type this, I wonder where our both's respective common senses had gone then. Grazing grass, probably?

We managed to reach till one of those ridiculous Gazebos that have recently come up in sporadic places across the End Point hills. A's Avenger was parked some 100 feet behind us. Then, it began. It started as a drizzle, grew to a steady beat and before I finished saying "Oh No --", our classic Western Ghats rain had returned. After 2 sunny weeks. On the only day we had decided to get out.

Well, we stood there like two bewildered cavemen. Our only protection being that roof above us. With no walls surrounding us. For 1.5 hours. There was water flowing on the floor, there was water on the seats, all around us, the rain thrashed. As we watched, streams and puddles started getting formed and grew at an alarming rate. Everything 10m beyond us was just white fog. We did not see another human for all that while. With a sigh, A said:

"You know what, we should simply go."

It then struck me as the most natural thing to do. So we walked back, into the roaring rain. As though we were giving the rain a middle finger.

Self: (yelling over the rain) "You know, if we were going to do this anyway, we could have done this an hour and a half ago."

A: "Hmmm"

Self: "I don't think we can do the English Breakfast in Valley View. They won't let us in."

A: "Hmm. Yeah. Mmm."

Self: "Look at the brighter side of it, I don't want to take bath for the next one week. Or go near any kind of water at all. I'll save time."

A: "Mmmm. Heh Heh Hehmmm." (vague mention of a laughter that soon dies down)

You see, A is one of those guys who think that if the context is depressing, your mood ought to be dark too. I don't agree with that sort of attitude. But I dint push for humor. I know I shouldn't push a man who was driving me behind his back on a country mud hill road with water madly pouring all around us with no other human in sight. This wasn't the time or context for paradigm shifts.

As we sat down and had our breakfast, the water simply flowed from our table. A's beard was dripping of water. My heart bled to even look down and catch a glimpse of my hitherto well-preserved sneakers. Instead, I smiled at an oriental girl. It felt like ages since I saw a member of the Homo sapien sp. I have never before appreciated so much, the simple marvel of being dry and being among other humans.

So, that is how, instead of running on the beach with my sun glares and and having an English Breakfast, I ended up getting drenched with my wind cheater and having cold hard idli vadas at Sharada Mess.

On a Sunday Morning that had initially started to feel like a Sunday Morning, may I emphasize.