“So, are you bored?” asked my friend. She was referring to my being alone in the house. Till the previous evening, I had a houseful of guests. Naturally, I had been extremely busy — cooking, cleaning and taking my guests out shopping. So, when, they finally left I was relieved. I was not lonely or bored, but was rather happy to be on my own.
I have noticed that, socially, it has always been ‘outrageous’ to enjoy your own company. People always talk about enjoying ‘company’ and the need to be with others. So, it was rather awkward to tell my friend the truth that I was very happy to have the entire house to myself.
During the guest entourage’s stay, I had been viciously planning my ‘me-time’. I was so bored of cleaning the toilet sink and the footmat that I was ready to put my feet up at the next opportune moment. I had secretly decided to live with all the filth around. I mean, if I am the only person at home, I really didn’t have to worry about ‘what people would think of a dirty house’. I would then probably just watch a movie or read a book with a hot cup of tea in my garden.
On second thoughts, when, I do get a lot of free time, I can actually get down to cleaning the wardrobe. The clothes have been lying all over for months and they had to be sorted into — what I like versus what I don’t. Or maybe, I would just donate the clothes I no longer intended to wear to charity. Better still, I could actually have the clothes sorted into winter, summer or daily wear and the rest could just go into a bag for the charity box next door.
And you see, the major problem with being a writer is the distractions people pose. So, I could probably use the so-called ‘solitude’ and churn out that great book that has been lurking inside me for the longest period of time. Perhaps it was time to get that out of its hibernation. And yes, all those mouth-watering recipes that I always planned to make. Maybe, try out the recipe that Italian neighbour handed me the other day for lasagne. Of course, I reasoned, I couldn’t get all that done, with a houseful of guests.
So, with so much to do and not do, I was indeed very happy with my relatives leaving for their home country.
With my friend watching my face doing a somersault of sorts with varied expressions, what could I tell her? “It is pretty quiet now ...” I began and was still wondering if I was ready to commit sacrilege by telling her the truth. Of course, what would others know how precious the ‘me-time’ is.
“But, Sudha, I thought you would be tired. You had seven people over. I wonder how you managed. You must really relax and enjoy your time ...” she began. “Well, in which case, let me tell you the truth,” I laughed. “Finally I get to be the queen of the house.”
That evening, I was ready to unwind. But I had a hard time deciding, if I wanted to relax and read or watch TV or perhaps write that book? I decided on writing that book.
So, off I went to the garden to meet my muse when I heard the front door bell. My husband stood there with a surprise visitor. Well, I guess, for now, the book would just have to wait till I find the next instalment of solitude.
Sudha Subramanian is an independent journalist based in Dubai.
