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Leisure is the flavour
of Sunday "ALL work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," a well-known maxim, applies equally to workaholics who do not rest even on Sundays. Sunday comes to us as a break and a relief from the boring and mundane routine of the weeklong work. And this relief is good for the body, the mind and the spirit. The Bible tells us that the Maker himself, after six days of creative activity, needed a day of rest. Little wonder then, that we too, mere mortals, should require for one day at least, a suspension of those activities that occupy our attention the remaining days of the week. From Monday to Friday, we are slaves to our professions, our employers, our families and to ourselves. We cannot always afford to live in the lap of luxury and must, of necessity, toil to earn a living for ourselves and for those who depend on us. But on Sunday, we are free. We are our own masters, in control of our own time. We may spend it as we like, for we are at liberty to do or not to do pretty much as we fancy. In spite of the great
expectations and magnificent obsessions about the day, or maybe because
of them, Sunday dawns much later than usual for most people than other
days do. On Sunday, the clock sets its own pace. It is dictated neither
by the mighty sun in the sky above nor by the humble cock crowing on the
earth below. No sword of Damocles hangs over the hours of slumber and
one may arise wrapped still in the misty veils of a delicious drowsiness
and doze off to sleep again if one wishes. Or one may lie awake in bed,
savouring those last few minutes before getting up, remembering that,
for today at least, pending files and threatening deadlines need not
trouble either the conscience or the mind. Workaholics, of course, are a
different breed. For them, Sunday probably does not appear on the
calendar at all. More’s the pity! |
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For, on Sundays, the paper itself, visibly thicker and more beautiful, attractive and colourful, is a symbol of the mood of the day. It cannot, should not and most certainly is not treated the way the weekday newspaper is! On Sunday, there is a stillness in the air and a soothing quiet that lies over the city like a comforter over a bed. Horns do not blare and blast. The frantic cacophony is almost or totally silenced. Instead, if you care to listen, you can hear the melodious songs of the birds singing in the lush green trees, and the children laughing and playing on empty streets, in the parks and on lakes. And, if you are lucky, from across the street you can hear the neighbour singing as she goes about her chores. Sunday is a pampered bath, a family lunch, an afternoon siesta. It’s curling up with a good book, a favourite TV or music programme, a visit to a loved-one, or going on a picnic with family members, and friends to a nearby beach, zoo or lake. It is relaxing and serves to ease the tension of life. Sunday is one day in the
week that breaks the dull monotony of our lives by providing pleasable
diversion to recoup, rejoice and refresh ourselves to return to work
with redoubled energy. Sunday removes the rust of the brain and makes us
brighter and happier. |
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