Saturday comes every week, but that was one Saturday that we would not forget. Most people like to spend the weekend going out to watch a movie, shopping followed by a sumptuous dinner outdoors or simply visiting the zoo or some place of historical importance, treating children with ice creams and balloons in between.
However, on that particular Saturday in early November several years back, some of our close friends and relatives decided to spring a surprise on us by coming to our rented one bedroom flat without prior notice, to spend and enjoy their weekend. They were the people from three families with whom we had strong bonds. It was a sheer coincidence that all of them thought along similar lines — of giving us a surprise by suddenly storming our modest dwelling. But it turned out to be a surprise as much for them as it was for us. Every family thought they would be the only visitors to our place. On seeing one another, they said: “Oh, so you also came! How wonderful. Now we will have a great time.”
They dictated the menu and made it plain that all of them wanted to have on both the days of the weekend “plenty of mutton dopiaza and kebab dishes”, among other specialities prepared by my wife. (I may point out that in most non-vegetarian families in certain communities, such dishes are a must on Sundays, the weekend in India and most other places.)
On Saturday, I had just reached my office when my wife called up to inform me about the “deluge” (my expression, not hers). For a moment, I was benumbed, wondering how I would manage things on reaching home. To make sure that she was not kidding I asked her to mention their names one by one. She complied to the amusement of the guests who were overhearing us. I could hear their giggles. I pondered for a while. My brief silence prompted my spouse to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes. Surely” I replied in a subdued tone. I could hear more giggles from near our landline phone. (There were no cell phones those days.)
When a colleague asked me the reason behind the sudden swoop, I told him that mutton preparations and fish were the main attractants that often brought unscheduled guests to our place. (Here I may point out that mutton in those days was within the reach of the common man.) Leaving office early, I rushed straight to my favourite mutton shop and bought sufficient quantity to last two days.
Despite the space crunch we had a lavish ‘community dinner’ in the most informal manner, some eating while seated on the floor, a few on the dining table and the children perched on a parapet wall. Two little ones were enjoying their food squatting on the first step of the staircase. Our efforts had been rewarded with unbounded love and affection. Carrying plates for subsequent servings, the children crisscrossed the limited space rather precariously.
All of us had a gala time with lot of music and dance, the youngsters stomping the floor. I am not sure about how the tenants on the lower floor might have felt. Now it was time to retire.
The weather was pleasantly moderate at that time of the year, often described as rosy winter. So, we did not need extra blankets. Moreover, the body heat in a crowded place like ours also came handy. But the real problem arose when it came to allocating suitable places for the infirm elderly and others in a flat that had only two beds. The children occupied the sofa and the settee. Two little fellows joined chairs to make small beds. What a sight it was! Ladies advised me not to worry and then they lay on the two beds horizontally, looking like potato rolls neatly packed in a carton! Men had to be content with lying on bare chadars (bed sheets) on the floor. I had to squeeze myself with one of my friends in a two-feet wide space. I will not forget that Saturday night because every time I needed to turn, I had to nudge him and seek his permission. He also did the same! That is how all of us spent that night.
Sunday was another day of fun and frolic, but by the evening, we had all dispersed though not before one friend greeted us with: “Many happy returns of the Saturday.”
Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.
