Schooltime Sundays

Circa 1995 - 2000. 

It's 10 pm on a Sunday. The day's been great. I woke up late, had a good lunch, probably watched a one day match on TV in the afternoon while dad and mom slept. In the evening, dad and mom and I got dressed, and they took me out. We drove to Thane market like we usually do, and bought some stuff for me and the house. 

We went to lots of shops, bought lots of nice things, which I cannot wait to go home and messily sort through. There was a short, good-natured debate about which restaurant to eat at. We zeroed in on one, and thankfully dad really liked the food there. It put him and mom in a good mood, and on the drive back we raved about it and vowed to go there more often. 

We reached home at 9 pm sharp, which was already late and any later would be too late. It's the time between sleeping time and dinner time, so dad put on the TV. Browsing channels, dad saw one of his favourite movies playing on cable so we decided to watch it fully. 

I love these impromptu movie plans because dad is so strict about time otherwise, he won't let anything disturb his or our schedule. 

And then the clock struck 10:30 pm. 

"अरे साडे दस बज गये! बाप रे! चलो सोते हैं। (Oh my God, is it 10:30 already? Holy shit, come let's go to sleep.)

Followed by the five most dreaded words of my entire childhood.

"कल school जाना है ना।" (Don't you have school tomorrow?)

Fuck.

It's a feeling I can't describe. You want to shit and throw up at the same time as fling yourself off a valley. Because school sucked. It was a cold, distant cesspool of chaos where you were prodded around like cattle. Do this, don't do that... all day long. The childhood equivalent of the modern-day corporate office, where your report card determines your worth and not your thoughts or feelings or personality or intent. 

Everything's a farce. It's all one big facade, very confusing, and nothing is as it seems. 

Then the TV abruptly goes off, and an eerie silence resounds through the living room. All of a sudden everyone's thinking about tomorrow, Monday, and the blues are already creeping in. A little bit of confusion, a little bit of tension, small bits of uncertainty. The stress levels start rising as the reality of a new week dawns. Dad brings up a patient who's coming tomorrow who never pays. Or something's broken in the clinic and he can't figure out how to get it repaired. Mom's unhappy with the maid, but she can't find another one who won't charge a bomb so she has to make do with this one but she can't figure out how, and life's totally not panning out like she imagined it would. 

Then my grandma or someone invariably brings up a test or an exam or something stressful I have during the week that I must prepare well for (as I have wasted the weekend playing or watching cricket), or else my life is doomed. Then all three of them shift their focus on me, and what ensues is a short but well-intentioned lecture about how I need to start taking my life more seriously, study better, behave a lot better and in general be less of the mess I am. 

Everyone wishes everyone good night. The lights switch off, everyone settles into bed. There's the perfunctory, 5-minute banal chatter before mom dad yawn and go to sleep. The vestiges of a Sunday well spent, of a stress-relieving weekend, set slowly on me, bit by bit disappearing completely over the horizon, never to return. The chatter has long faded away, the ceiling fan now swiveling creakily, and a couple of cars pass on the road below, casting weird shadows on the ceiling. 

Total silence in total darkness. The clock ticks away, the seconds until school fast approaching. Dad's snoring already, mom's also fast asleep. I lie awake in bed thinking about the Sunday that was, thinking about tomorrow, Monday - the classes, the teachers, the exams, the projects - counting days until next Sunday, wondering when all of this will be over. 

Fantasizing about when I'll finally be out of school, a free man free to do as I please, free to work the job of my liking, free to earn the money I want, and free to live life my way. 

Pity I don't know yet that that day might never come at all.