Weekend - what's that??

Sad but true. We urban monsters can no longer differentiate between weekdays and weekends.... the days blend smoothly and meld into a 7 day, non-stop week with zero time off for self.... leisure... chilling. When we are not on our laptops ( I refuse to get a Blackberry), we our frantically texting. It is a disease - I recognise the symptoms.... but realise I am a terminal case. Like millions of others. I rushed to Alibag this morning, and charged back. I was willing to 'save' time and skip lunch. But my daughter Arundhati sensibly decided enough was enough. I compromised and settled for a multigrain chicken salad sandwich (lots of mustard), a mushroom salad , and a wonderful cappuccino at our favourite neighbourhood snackbar, 'Sugar 'n' Spice at the President Hotel down the road. Am I glad I took that break. We bonded, as only mothers and daughters do, or can. Then.... she left to converse in French with Dominique ( Arundhati goes back to Paris in December.... and needs to brush up her Mumbai Francaise), and I drove off to run errands. By the time I got home, Saroj, the Antique lady was waiting for moi. Saroj deserves a book devoted to her . She happens to be one of the most knowledgeable women on textiles. There is little Saroj does not know - from French Paisley shawls to Saurashtra aabhas - both going back a century or so. Oh.... I forgot to mention.... Saroj is illiterate, hard working and underprivileged (money wise). But what riches she possesses, in terms of sheer expertise! She could teach the mighty members of the textile board of India, a thing or two. There is much I have learned from Saroj over the years. I am grateful for her friendship.