Watched a lovely little film last night called "Manorama - six feet under". This was to cap off one of those near perfect days that come by so rarely and unexpectedly. I was home from work due to a back ache and enforced bed rest meant that I spent a peaceful day tucked up on my futon reading Murakami's "Kafka on the Shore". My little boy sat on the windowsill with the curtains drawn around him, listening to stories about giant turnips and dragon lanterns on CDs. Quaint and cozy. Made more so by the freak weather which has recently given us torrential rains and some crisp, cold breezes. We spent a nice afternoon giving each other loving looks, impromptu hugs and altogether being very cheesy indeed. The husband would have had a sardonic thing or two to say about all this mooching around. Had he been home. But he wasn't. Out eating dimsumthing with his brother. Ha!
(A quick bit about this Kafka book. All of you who read "Wind up Bird Chronicles" and wanted to murder that Haruki Murakami person for ending the book as abruptly as he did, give the man another chance with this one. Its mesmeric. Spellbinding. Delicious - have to keep turning the pages type of literary wonder. I've been thinking of sneaking it to work with me - but something tells me that might make me look like a bit of a fruitcake, should my colleagues walk in on me suddenly. In other words, do read if you can).
So the man named Tys came home early for a change and whisked us off to a park close to home. We chose a spot on the private beach strip annexed to the park and proceeded to have a whale of a time. Tys had thoughtfully set-up a couple of folding chairs and mats and had even thought to get us some samosas and lemon cakes in case we got hungry. We did. Most of the food somehow found its way into my stomach, and the rest was hurriedly divided between husband and child. It was great. I even had a blanket to wrap myself in and I just sat there listening to the water and looking at the distant city skyline while the other two played close by. A sudden shift in seismic activity right beside me brought me back to earth and I found a pair of eyes peering at me (looking lovingly as it turned out) from the chair beside me and it was Tys come to bond. The next hour or so I spent talking to my husband about this, that and all things random. Chatty we were. Almost like we hadn't a care in the world. I kind of hated to see the evening end. But there are things in this world like sending off your kids to school very early in the morning and we had to eventually pack and head home. But only after I had watched the stars for a long time and had a constellation or two explained to me by the hubba.
And yes, then we watched Manorama. Us 3 on a couch with underage tyke all tucked in and asleep in his dad's arms. Nice.
Moving on ... to Abhay Deol - who would have thought that Deol clan could produce something like an Abhay?? - is he really related to Sunny, Bobby and Dharam paaji? Oye and balle balle I say! He has done a credible job playing a middle class government worker in Lakhot (Rajasthan) who one day finds himself in the midst of a real life murder mystery. It was a gem of a movie - not perfect in the plot, but had me glued to the screen from start to finish. Gul Panag played Abhay's small town wife to perfection - housecoats, peeling aloos for dinner while arguing with husband et al. Fun. And the film is replete with these small things that we'll all find familiar at some point. Plus there is a juicy double murder, Vinay Pathak at his best and Raima Sen bringing in the glam factor. And of course, there is a LOT of Abhay Deol.
The best thing about days like yesterday is that they last forever in all the ways that count.