Manic Monday

I am rudely awakened from my sleep , the alarm singing “wake up , wake up, for its  a brand new day...”wishing vehemently that I could shut it and go back to deep slumber but no..not today...it was Monday and we are back to the grind after a well earned day’s sabbatical! To start is difficult but to restart is Herculean...and that was precisely the mode I was in at this moment...
         A bigger task awaited me , the ordeal of waking up two teenage boys ,who had spent three fourths of the previous night chatting, fighting, gaming , listening to music, though not necessarily in this order...Repeated ventures into their bedroom with vocal chords exercise starting from the mild tone “hey boys please get up , its time” to the high octaves finally yields results and they are up and about caring little to make the bed ,suddenly realizing that a mountain of unfinished tasks lay before them – activities, assignments, presentations  which had kissed the weekend goodbye and the Monday deadline stared at their faces!

         I enter the washroom with utmost trepidation, fervently praying to Almighty for the water to flow through the pipes , yes the requests to God  may sound trivial but not in my predicament. God is merciful , the security staff had not forgotten to switch on the motor, I know Iam  at the mercy of his memory!

          Soon , at my own Adda juggling milk satchets on one hand , bread loaves on the other, wish I had half a dozen more which would work in tandem to complete the morning chores, I hand the respective beverages to the boys with a reminder set every couple of minutes to drink it. Suddenly, there is a shrill call from the boy’s domain- “Amma, where on Earth is the scrap book?” Thanking the stars that it not a sledge hammer strike between the two and only a verbal assault, I answer in a tone to boot his “It is in the wooden almirah” . There is a pregnant silence  for the next 60 seconds and the shrill voice gets back , this time accompanied with swear words. Before it exceeded the limit, I rush to their territory and frantically search for the multi hued craft paper and “presto” like a magician pull them out from under a rubble of near nonsense! A sense of David defeating Goliath inundates me and the over wrought situation is brought under control. In a jiffy , Iam back where I more fully belonged- the clock strikes six and it is time to wake up the master , who by now is already out of the bed, thanks to the decibel duel that had preceeded.  Even , my loving neighbours are not spared and are jolted out of their sleep.

    Now, it is the turn of the elder, he cannot find his Math note book #2 , as he vociferously argues that he had labelled #2 the book is there right in front of our eyes albeit without the marking. I gave him a solid glare which said it all ,as there was no time for foul mouthing!

        Meanwhile the chappatis on the tava turned a wee bit more brown  and the lunch boxes were in total disarray but somehow the dextrous hands managed to pack the four boxes of the crew who were heading in different directions-  yes, different strokes for different people ....

         “Oh no!”  I uttered to myself – the uniforms for the brigade were not ironed .... I cursed myself for watching the Sunday evening movie , thereby postponing the inevitable ironing chore to the morrow, now my conscience hurt but of little use, as the kids have their bath, the uniforms are pressed  with the speed that would do a F1 driver proud. One of the blazer buttons is missing “never mind” I tell myself, nobody is going to notice. The shoes are sparkling clean due to the wizard of Oz and thankfully no white shoes on Monday!

    The spouse’s tie and socks are missing and ever so famous dialogue comes out popping “ how many times have I told you to put them where it belonged”but the oft repeated verses have little impact on the ears as my mind is on another plane... the question paper proof is not ready for the next day’s test, I quickly scribble the questions on a sheet to hand them over to the office staff , who I was sure would make a mess of it , thanks to my unbeatable calligraphy! To hell with the printer’s devil, I could always get the corrections done.
       And then comes the final straw that breaks the camel’s back... the younger one has to read the morning news in the assembly- the newspaper vendor is nowhere in sight and he searches his smart phone for the latest updates but the internet lets him down , couple of unfathomable swear words in the offing and is he finally done? God only knows!
      The all too familiar honk of the school bus and the two are off much to the maker’s relief , me and my better half start the ignition of the cold engine of the car, even it feels the blues of the Monday morning, finally we are off munching our sandwiches , I have forgotten to add salt in the coriander chutney in the sandwich, we yell , though for different reasons, one for the saltless diet and the other at the chaos on the roads....

   The famous Bangles song “It’s a manic Monday, Wish it was Sunday”...comes to life on the FM radio and I close my eyes for a fleeting moment and hope against hope that it is indeed Sunday!!!