There’s something perfectly homely about staying home on a Saturday night. Embedded in the orange glow of the lamps that dot the corners of my little living room. Listening to my new found obsession: the saxophone, on loop. With a head whirring with thoughts that refuse to be tied down in a logical, understandable manner.
Its been a week of toying with the ideas in my head. Ideas about holidaying, about what the home needs. About where my life is possibly going, why I’m doing what I am. About how I can’t seem to muster the guts to accept one of the smallest truths about myself and my life. And about how that small truth could somehow have the largest impact on the way things are. So there’s many things I could talk about today.
I could tell you how its been a wonderful Saturday. After many weeks, I spent it all alone. So I took time out to let the house be messy for a change. Things strewn about, beds unkempt, remnants of breakfast still scattered on the counter. Instead, I read the news to my hearts content. I didn’t cook so I chose to have a simple sada lunch of curd rice and pickle. I wrote for a bit, finished a post thats been worming its way through my heart. I watched Gulaal, finally — after many failed attempts at beginning to watch it, only to be interrupted by the need to cook dinner one time, host a bunch of boys partying at home another time, an incredible sugar craving the third time. The movie was intense and left me thinking. Its probably going to keep me thinking for a while, by the looks of it. I stayed in my boxers until 4 p.m. Its that kind of day.
I let the day spin out of control, basically. And it was nice to let go for a change. I did clear up later in the day, but we’ll just focus on how I agreed to chill for a large part of the day and actually enjoyed it :)
I could tell you how I’ve had such an awesome influx of the Go-Forth-To-Europe vibes that I’ve been very patiently counting. But we’ve decided to put that on hold till next year. Leave issues + complications with coordinating time between the both of us + trying to quickly plan a trip to Spain to meet the the desperate need for an immediate break.
I could tell you about how we’re finally biking it out. Our first real vacation since we moved out of Bangalore, we’re riding the Thunderbird down to Hampi. And even though I’ve been there only like 54683 times before, I’m excited. It will be another first. A bike-road-trip. A first holiday out of Goa. A first holiday this year. And god knows, we need it.
I could tell you about how the song that’s playing softly right is creeping under my skin. There’s something that just clicked when I heard this song recently, and quite predictably (for those who know me and my music cycles) its been on loop since then, stopping only intermittently to allow a burst of the 2 new Dev D discoveries. My musical extravaganza the past few weeks have been a combination of some blast from the past and some utterly new and unexplored territories in music. It started with Sirish sharing some blues, and then I moved into some blue grass and then the current favorite: Steely Dan, for the second time in my life. But this time its like he’s speaking to me.
I could also tell you about the sordid love affair I’m having with the sound of the sax. It’s so overpoweringly sexy, you can’t be indifferent to it. I’ve never paid much attention. It’s like one of those slightly sexy men who steals a look at you every now and then, but you’re never too sure what it means, so you ignore it. And you waste your time chasing after the pretty boys. Only to have Mr Sexy come back many years later and sweep you off your feet. Steely Dan has done that to me. Brought the sax back in my face. And this time its too sexy to ignore.
Combine Mr Sexy with any evening spent in the orange hues of Saturday evening living room light. Smoke rings whirling through the air, a crisp homemade mojito burns your lips. And he plays on for you. Again and again. On loop.
I could tell you that it doesn’t get cozier than this. How this is what I imagined many years ago, when I thought about one day having my own home. Or I could have you listen to what I am:
And leave the rest to your imagination.