The Monday has taken me apart.

It has thrown at me tasks that I was meant to do many days ago, but got buried under other tasks. Like the monster that it’s meant to me, it has blindsided me in meetings with questions that I didn’t expect. In the quiet lunch hour, I stayed back to finish work that suddenly is far more frightful than it seemed last week while I procrastinated. The table is cowering under a laptop that feels like it’s burning up and tottering piles of documents that appear to be conspiring to kill me or atleast pounce on me the next chance they get.

It isn’t ending, this Monday. It’s just stretching into the evening, oblivious to tired minds and pleading faces. The five days ahead, and I have no idea where they’ll take me, seem like a time so long that it’s hard to imagine the other side.

After you discount the drama, what remains is still pretty scary.

Pune made me happy. The roads were green and lined with quaint houses. The food was great and it was a nice warm feeling driving across dark streets while peering out of the car into the passing trees.

More than that, it makes me want to come back, flop on a bean bag and read for many hours while having apple juice.

Few feelings are as delicious as the one that comes with relaxed Sunday mornings.