The slight drizzle, cloudy climate even at eight (rare at Chennai), wet mud. Mother nature at its best. and I hear my mom "Sunday naa, coffee kuda leave ah". Nothing could stop me from that coffee (yup, kaappi thanni, in my dad's lingo), especially on such a beautiful day. I take that kaapi outside to veranda, pick up the Hindu's Magazine (rarely I read the main paper, yeah, thats me). Sipping the filter coffee with Hindu on hand, I nostalgically think of my grandpa. Where did those years run away. There used to be some sort of hierarchy we followed even in reading those papers.
Usually Thaatha greets the newspaper guy (I used to call him thaatha too) and gets The Hindu and Thinathanthi papers, and starts reading, rather seeing the tamil paper. My dad by this time would be glancing at the Hindu. Yeah glancing is the word. Then Paati would arrive with Kaapi for both. Both would continue with the papers, sipping it (as I did just now, a para ago). By then I would have woken up, come around asking for The Hindu's Young World or such, just to be part of the scene. Dad being Dad, wont let me, because he wouldnt want to mix up the papers. So I would have to satisfy myself with Siruvar Malar from thaatha. Then they would exchange papers. Even if Thaatha hadnt finished he would tell "Appa has to go to office, let him finish".
Then I will have to pass those papers to my uncle (athimber), who live actually next to us. After him, my athai reads. Then it finishes it circle and reaches back to thaatha around 11 or so, who would have completed his bath, Pooja and brunch routine. He then would complete his thorough reading of paper again.
Gone are those days. Now dad enjoys his complete Monopoly over his morning papers. BUT NOT TODAY. I have my chance, HAHAHAHA (thats supposed to be a villainous laughter)
, Dad has already read it :( :( Effects of getting up by eight :(
Ya, Sipping coffee and paper. Yeah Best of Sunday. Hope You have your own sunday stories,!