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We wait through out our week for the weekend. And, sometimes when the weekend dawns, they don’t live up to our expectations. The last two days was one of those; difficult weekends.

Saturday was bleh. It actually was a blur. It came. It saw. And, just like that, it disappeared. There was nothing we did. Yes.. We ate. Slept. Ran around for groceries. And, came back home for dinner, which was just leftover lunch. And then, we were back to sleep again. Or so we thought.

Until at around twelve, I was woken up by the sound of a cough. ‘But, she didn’t really have much of a cold, did she?’ I was reasoning out in my half-asleep state. But, before I could even stir myself a little more, **grossness alert** the entire bed was full of dinner that was had a couple or more hours earlier. Ammu had puked on the bed; on herself; and, a little on me. At midnight, we were cleaning up the bed; washing the sheets and bathing ourselves. After quarter of an hour of calming down, we moved to the other room to catch some sleep. Alas, ‘Nithra Devi’ had bid goodbye to us that night. Ammu puked again. Thankfully this time not much on us. So, we were left with just cleaning the bed and washing the sheets alone. Finally, at about two, we were all asleep. Only to be woken up at six to do the ritual again; this time thankfully in the bathroom. Sigh.

Anyway, our Sunday was spent mostly recuperating with a clingy sick child, who had lost out on her appetite. She was clinging not to me, but to the screen; yeah right.. the idiot box. And, I had no choice but to let her be. Till around six in the evening, I was with her watching Meeshkas  and mooshkas. But, at six, I gave up and changed channels. I had to have my share of down-time. Crayons and white paper did the trick for some time. Also, a little bit of YouTubing.

Now, this post is not about these motherhood travails. Every house witnesses this. Often. It is about how the channel that I changed made the weekend absolutely worth it. Yeah.. I am talking about the Fed-Djoker Wimbledon final that I watched for four hours straight yesterday. (Let’s  forget the half hour break I took in between to make upma. Wifehood interventions. Sigh.)

I always wonder how much happiness watching a sport gives you. I am not much of a tennis freak. I know the basics of the game. Aces and volleys are all that I  know of. It’s a mystery how just two players, showing not much aggression on the field (in most of the games)  but only with their skill, dabbling a small little round ball from one side to another with their rackets make for a nail-biting viewing for hours together. I mean, this is entertainment at its best. Yesterday’s game was top class tennis. Just out of the world.

Djokovic has been in his peak for sometime now. A man with a calm serene demeanor with immense potential, this man is a role model for kids and adults alike. His backhands are awesome. Even with all this, he’s not the one the crowd (and the entire world!) was partial to, even at an otherwise diplomatic Center court at Wimbledon. It was the 33 year old man, a father of four who was clearly the crowd’s boy. And, what a fight this old man gave! Coming back from 2-5 to win the fourth set 7-5 and to be on in the game and in the championships.. It was a sheer pleasure to watch this genius called Roger Federer.

There are some sports persons you watch while you grow up. Knowingly or unknowingly, they become your role models; sometimes even like an invisible mentor who keeps boosting you to do better. There rises an emotional connect with them for reasons unknown. And, you don’t let a single blemish tarnish their images in your minds. They are your friends. You are happy when they win; you shed tears when they lose. They give happiness to you by just playing the way they do. ‘Fan’ is such a lame word to call your relationship. They are your inspirations; you are the ‘inspired’. Roger Federer, for me, ranks there up at the top. His life, on and off the field, has always inspired me. His humility. His calmness. His aggressive sport. His backhands. His skill. His genius. I can’t see a single blemish in the 33 years of his existence. He is and will always be my role model.

On days like yesterday, I am really glad that I am avid sports fan. My heart was in my mouth at various points in the game. I screamed when Fed brought out his aces. I cheered when he won that coveted Fourth set. I cried when he lost. I was also happy that he played the way he did. In those four hours of this sheer beauty of a match, I forgot all about the pettiness called the mundane. That’s exactly why I believe that the lives of these magicians of sport are blessed. And, so are ours; their ‘fans’!

P.S. – Musical Mondays has gone for a stroll this week. We’ll be back with some awesome beauties next week, okay! 🙂

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