Sunday mornings

Sunday mornings back home is not a nondescript affair for ma. She has to wake up lazily shaking off the pecks of hard work clinging on to her sinew because of the previous day's hard work. She wakes up and takes a bath with cold water. It does not matter if it is the chilling winter morning. Sunday is the day for ma and us when we have a feast at home. Breakfast isn't a simple affair. Tea, luci, kobi bhaji(in winters) garnished with coriander bits, sweets and even laru pitha(during magh bihu) dot the expanse of our large dining table. My brother throws his tantrums of having an omelette(I do't think he still does). My sister doesn't want to have simple luci. She has her own peculiar taste of luci with sugar and jam. Aita has to be serve on brass utensils. Deta comes with his bunch of papers and above all the luci has to be light and blown up like a balloon. We don't demand it, it is ma's idea of an ideal luci.
Sunday breakfast having done we disperse and move about our nondescript chores. We would dash to the dance school. Brother would sit in front of the television or go out in the lawn to play with his baby sitter. Aita finds her place comfortably in the verandah and peels oranges. In summers she would roam around the house picking up tiny things which we had discarded for example old fountain pens, nibs, safety pins, sharpeners and store them in tiny nimble nivea containers. She would then go for a good bath.
No sooner the affair of the breakfast ends ma calculates about the dishes she would make for the lunch. I shouldn't say calculate. It would be an insult to put it as a calculation for she has it in her finger tips the plan for the day. It comes to her very spontaneously. Sunday lunches are elaborate and a big affair. It has to have non-vegetarian fare either be it chicken, mutton or sometimes both along with fish which is mandatory. Now fish comes in various sizes as we all know. Fish is another elaborate affair for we donot have just one fish for lunch. Either it is tingora maas fried or rou maas in omita(papaya) and sojona(drunmsticks)pator(leaf) khar. Fish is a lavish affair for the gut of the fish is not discarded. We have another dish out of the fish gut and onions. And on top of it we had to have a dali(dali,dal) and salad(basically salted freshly cut cucumber). I love it especially when ma makes mati mahor dali. I relishhhhh it.If the season was apt we would also have koldil bhaji dipped in ghee. Crispy fried fish has to accompany the main course and it is so beautifully browned and crisp that no Sunday lunch can be complete with it. And to end it all if she is in her good mood she treats us to custard. Well, that is the grand end to the grand Sunday feast. Now when I am away from home tucked in the cosy room of an American University,lying on my bunk bed and thinking of that grand affair, I must say that I miss my Sunday desperately. I used to have my own preferences at that time for everything was at my disposal and the things were very normal for me. Now when I am seven seas across the world I really miss those Sundays. I miss SUNDAY!!!