1625 in the afternoon

It was when i was going for my squash practice that i realised even though i love the game i never feel elated by the mere thought of going for the game. The practice has become a part of my schedule. Amidst all this so called newly acquired, 'on my own' freedom feeling i have had to pay something very dear. I couldn't possibly go to the court with my brain in this 'does my life suck' mode, so i put a brake to my ride, sat beneath a tree and dived into my portable personal pensieve. All memories of my homework doing flushed my mind. The scale and pencil in hand, eye on the time piece, ears aching for the shout o' my mates', brain forming the football strategies and heart already savouring the jubilance of another victory. My favourite question- Maa if i could do my HomeWork later plzzz, followed by her condescending question, and the reason for that is???because Maa its 1630. This was out daily regime and no conversation in those days could lift my spirits more or make me feel better. Smug if we won the game, explanations & reasons, accounting the instances of  'cheating' when we lost it. Fatigued yet contended but dreading the feel to return home after 1900 and recounting every kick and save to Maa while eating excruciatingly slowly the bread with Bournvita milk coz i knew what fate awaits me after that on the study table. And again contemplating about the game for another half hour before Maa comes to have a peep in.

Gradually the habit of asking for permission morphed into merely informing her and our conversation got lost in time. Sometimes i still try reconstructing The conversation with my roomie but the condescending tone is missing in his voice.

**dedicated to my Maa