The heavens have unexpectedly opened up. We are now back to rainy days. If the weather people are to be believed -and I see no reason not to – we are going to have rain for a couple of days more. It is amusing how people still are in the habit of deriding the weather forecasters at every turn. Mocking the forecasts seems like an inescapable conversation starter (or conversation filler!). But the same people are willing to believe that if the cat washes its face it will surely rain. Like seriously?
I was watching a show on Netflix today called, Into The Night. The show’s premise is that the sun’s energy has become potentially dangerous to humans, killing almost all of them except a few who have managed to escape to bunkers deep inside the earth, two kilometers deep if I am not mistaken, and their efforts at survival. While watching the show I turned to the L&M and said, ‘I will not have to worry about any of this (finding seeds, fuel and the rest of it) because I will definitely be long dead by then. You see, I’d never survive the cold!” Yep. Though in winter gear, those who had gone in search of ‘seeds’ to Norway were feeling the cold badly I could see.
Come to think of it, I think I need to keep a diary with all the ‘interesting’ things I say while watching television shows faithfully noted down in it. I also say things not-worth-noting-down stuff like, ‘Lock the door. Why do you want to make it easier for the pursuer to pursue?’ The L&M says if I were in any of the shows, there’d be no shows at all. ‘You’d refuse to go down into the dark cellar to investigate a noise, waiting instead for power to be restored. Where’d we be then? No story, no show!’ He has a point and yet…
The after dinner hours (ours) is family time for us on Sundays. I try to make it a point to get both the children on a video call at the same time. Unbelievable as it seems, Luci chooses exactly the same time to demand attention. She makes it a point to sit behind our chairs with her back to us and make piteous crying sounds. I am all alone in this world. No one ever talks to me. In fact it practically looks like she is singing the song, ‘I am nobody’s child’. Calling her over will not do the trick. One has to get up and either cajole or order her to move up front. Then, and only then, she allows herself to be petted, smiling widely all the while during the rest of the times. If this isn’t a case of sibling rivalry I don’t know what is!
© Shail Mohan 2021