Living at home is all together a different experience than living alone... i guess most of you will agree to the fact that when in front of your parents you are not the same person as you are with your friends... you are a little subdued , a little careful about your speech and most important you never curse in front of your parents...
Over the years i have given an account of almost every part of my life but not the domicile domestic and boring account of my family life.... if u fall asleep halfway when you read this i don't blame you....
The sun would always come screaming though my window and for years i couldn't figure out what actually woke me up, the sun or my mom shouting at me just to get me to wake up... And when i did manage to i was just too lazy, as if spending another 5 mins in bed would create all the difference.
Dad usually had a very amicable approach to a sunday... wake up, tea, 3 different newspapers, nap, lunch, nap again, tending to the garden in the evening, t.v till dinner time( he always watches worthless chanells for god knows what reason), dinner and followed my some uninterrupted sleep with heavy snoring if i might add...
Mom is the most active member of the family.. sometimes i wonder that her blood might have been replaced by Red Bull... she ( being the neat freak that she is)always gets the house in proper condition... everything in its right place till the rest of the family members decide to mess it up again... I always used to find her the a cleaning cloth in her hands whenever i did manage to see her that is... i always used to sit back and see her cleaning everything in a hurried fashion but never missing a single detail... and i was stuck with some chores in the usual rate.... i always lost myself in this haphazardness and it never made any sense to me... so i just sneak out with my bike for i knew that peace was only 10 mins away...
Those sundays have faded away somewhere.. though my mom and dad do almost the same thing my sundays involve a lot of sleep and trying to get rid of the hangover from the night before... i sometime think about those days... but it seems to fade away like a distant dream somewhere...
The bike is gone, the city of dwelling has changed.... but i sometimes do hear the wind calling my name begging me to come back home.
