by Anita Menon
On this Sunday, I realized I had this sheepish grin on my face for half of the day. What was the reason you might ask? There are dozens and one of them being a beautiful cloudy Sunday. A perfect day. Perfect days inspire you to do things, things that otherwise seem tedious, boring, funny, silly to outright ridiculous. On this inspiring Sunday, I choose to write about all the perfect things in my life.
It started with my daughter’s perfect sleepy smile in the morning and her perfect tiny hands rubbing the sleep off her eyes. My mother made us some perfectly white idlies and I admired the whiteness of those idlies. How white can be so white!! Then I looked outside unto the skies to see the perfect black clouds trying to gang up against the earth and I hoped for some rain. I found myself comfortably lying on my bed reading the kind of book that I like to read – Anita Nair’s ” Lessons in Forgetting” . Thereafter, I wished my perfect mom a very happy mother’s day and volunteered to make rotis for her. I made perfectly round rotis and beamed in pride.
After all this, here I am trying to see was there any place for any more perfection to seep in? A perfect life, a perfect daughter, a perfect husband, a perfect marriage and how my parents look perfect together. Still that content was missing. I could feel a void , a void, I had no clue of but knew it existed. I am sure it’s not about my non-existent career or friends or a social life. It was something else. That hole in my perfect world, when will it fill itself or is it waiting for me to fill it up? Thats not fair, because I got all the other perfect things without having to work for it. Then why make me work on this one?