"Sunday...My I-don't-have-to-run-day"

At long last Sunday is here. My life these days is spent waiting for weekends to arrive. Primarily for two reasons – Sundays are invariably Rainrider time and I also am gently reminded who I really am on weekends.

On Friday, I completed one month of being in my new job. It’s a job that I was sworn against. A job that every second person in my family pursued. The field which for me “held no appeal”. Now I’m trying very hard to be good at it.

There are parts of it that I love. The concept, for instance, however complicated, is fascinating in its own way. But the people bit remains a challenge, and infact bigger than ever.

I’ve come to realize that reticent or reserved people are quite a target for the rest of the world. To those whom socializing comes easily and effortlessly, we quiet ones come across as unusual, puzzling and anti-social even. I encounter surprise almost on a daily basis from people who wonder why and how I stay “so quiet all day”. And the body language issue just complicates it all. Little details that lead to misunderstandings of gross proportions.

Also happened to receive one of the most unbiased evaluations I’ve ever received. J is one of the best trainers I’ve had and hers was probably the one of the rare courses where I exulted in eagerly answering questions and didn’t give a damn if my batch mates thought I was doing a Hermione. She’s also the first person to call me intelligent after I stopped topping my class continuously till the eighth grade.

In any case, it’s a Sunday and thank god for Sundays. When one focuses and being good at something that’s not their first choice, one starts missing things they love at some point of time. I miss writing. I miss talking to people I like. I miss college and its familiarity. I miss spending time with my mother. I miss the Rainrider and all the times we’ve spent idly lazing around with each other.

But when the opportunities become rare, they also become all the more special. Like the night we spent on the beach. The moon shone right above our heads from a clear, star-lit sky and the strong sea-breeze left saline traces on everybody’s lips. The moonlight gently illuminated the beach but just enough so that it still cloaked everyone in dark anonymity. Rainrider’s ipod provided the music, one earphone plugged in either one of our ears. No words were spoken. It was just the sea, classic rock and us. The combination couldn’t have been better.

The universe has strange ways of putting things in perspective.