Weekend Mood

Introduction: Among many beautiful things that god has created is the weekend. Like most people I look forward to Saturdays. Nay, it is perhaps Fridays that I actually look forward to. For if Friday is here can Saturday be far behind? Most people are usually in the pink of their moods on Fridays. Even as I drive to office along the ring road trudging up the Changangkha snake, I have smile all over my body. On Fridays, I don't care if a lesser car overtakes me. I draw down the window of my car and wave at them to pass.

Friday at work: Productivity at work can be very high when you are in the best of your spirits. As a management consultant, my job involves a lot of data analysis, report structuring and presentation to clients. I prefer making my presentations to clients to Friday afternoons. On Fridays, a client is usually in a hurry to leave office and he is in a good mood. This complements my own good mood! On no other days, do patrons and providers gel so well.

Your weekend is definitely going to be extra relaxing if you can tide over your major deadlines on a Friday. As they say, never keep a monkey on your back during the weekend!

Weekend at home: I do a five-day week and Friday evenings feel like heaven. The fact that two non-working days follow a Friday makes the atmosphere jubilant. On Friday evenings I keep the alarm on my mobile at the usual 5:00 am. The next morning, it is such a pleasure to be able to swipe the alarm off and go to sleep again. I can’t do that Monday to Thursday. Just to derive pleasure I do this consciously on Fridays. My wife doesn’t mind it either!  After the alarm goes off a second time at about 8:00 am, I wake up. Our two boys are far from done. Saturdays are too soporific for them. We have our breakfast around 9:00 after cajoling and threatening our boys out of their beds. Saturdays are fun. My wife and I follow a routine that started several years ago.

Often, we get into hypertension and negative energy by envying the new house our relatives have built or the new cars our friends have acquired.  It is important to be able to derive happiness from simple things, which are within our control.

Sabji (vegetable) Bazaar – the weekend routine: ‘Doing the Sabji Bazaar’ is our weekly routine on Saturdays. An old hand woven plastic basket, two Bhutan Telecom organic bags, some money and we are off to the Sabji Bazaar. At home, my wife is the chairman, president and the minister. She decides which vegetable and how much to buy. At the Centenary Farmers’ Market, my management degree and professional experiences are rendered redundant. I merely carry the baskets and walk after my wife as if I am colour blind and suffering from anosmia.

The Thimphu Sabji Bazaar

Tika follows a routine. We usually start from the upper floor of the bazaar, which is dedicated to local produces. She must inspect all the stalls and invariably greet the vendors. ‘Amoi, kinema chhaina?’ (‘Granny do you have kinema?’ - Kinema is boiled and fermented soybean), she enquires of an old lady with a flat nose ring – boolaki.  Further on, there is a younger lady, with natural rustic good looks. ‘Baini, karela (bitter gourd) kasari kilo?’ Tika enquires. Once we are done with Tsirang, we move to the western flank of the upper floor. ‘Ama ema kaam gadey ray mo? (Madam, how much is the dried chili?), my wife uses her Dzongkha to buy dried chili.

Depending on the season, we load a lot of greens from the upper floor and move downstairs for imported vegetable. We usually patronize a retired policeman who sells a medley of vegetable imported from Falakata, West Bengal. ‘Ata, joktang haftur ya?’ (Brother, how much is the potato?), my wife haggles a bit before loading one of the BT bags with potato, eggplant, bitter gourd and sharp-biting Indian chili.     

As far as possible, we always buy from local farmers and minimize the purchase of imported vegetable of dubious pedigree. Long ago, in my higher secondary economics, I had studied the merits of the specialization of labour. Today I see it in practice – my wife specializes in haggling and purchasing, while I have perfected the art of silently following her!

Networking at the Sabji bazaar: At the vegetable market, I always keep one hand free. There are plenty of friends and relatives to meet and greet. And the Bhutanese way of shaking hands is unique. You offer your ten fingers as if your friend is a demi-god and he does the same. In between, the twenty fingers, including any unkempt and unclipped nails, clank and prick each other.

Last Saturday, I met a Facebook friend face to face. We were meeting after two decades; Palden’s timeline was reflected in his receeding hairline, which had extended his forehead right up to the middle of his head. He was selecting Indian eggplants, while I was merely following my wife on her merry-go-rounds of the vegetable stalls. Palden had sent me a friend request a month ago and I had instantly accepted him for I knew him as an old Sherubtse boy.  We shook hands – good old Bhutanese style and he offered me a doma, which I accepted and kept for my wife.

On a regular basis, however, I usually meet the same guys. Binai Lama with his tall frame serenading his wife. Madan Chhetri of the WWF fame waiting for his wife he has lost somewhere in the crowd. Pema, who looks resplendent in his new gho and many more. In all these, I find one thing common – men carry the shopping baskets and follow their wives.

Saturday night – invite and get invited: We usually have get-togethers on Saturday nights. It can be as simple and small as Dolly and Bindhya dropping by with Pizza for the boys or more grand where the entire Crazy Group gets together and does something more shattering. The gatherings are mostly unplanned and impromptu. One of us calls the other to find out what is happening and soon word spreads out for everyone to gather at a place, sometimes a restaurant, but mostly at someone’s house!

Normally, come Saturday everyone is expecting others to invite him. It is like the game of ‘who blinks first’! But we also follow an informal and unspoken routine. If Madan hosted a tango the last weekend, he can safely expect to be invited this time around. Inviting others and getting invited add a lot of suspense and fun to Saturday evenings. One time, I asked someone if he was free that Saturday. Hoping and expecting to be invited, he promptly answered ‘yes’. When I said, ‘I want to come to your place’, I could almost hear him cursing silently! I have good friends and among regular friends it works. I hear that in the west, one doesn’t get to meet and greet relatives and friends as one whishes. You got to make prior appointments. But then we are in the east, where we still retain some old world charm and culture.

Sunday: Sunday morning is not ‘up with the larks’. It is another lazy day with a late breakfast often a brunch. Once in a while my wife challenges me to cook something for the family. When pushed, I usually prepare fried rice and give it an exotic foreign name ‘Nasi Goreng’ to sell it to my young sons. My boys have a smirk on their faces as they try something cooked by their dad! Rest of the day is spent checking on the boys’ dress, school uniforms and any project and assignment that they may have to carry to school the next day. Alas! Sunday is over and tomorrow will again be a Monday.

Endnote: Happy weekend everyone. I hope you enjoyed reading this. Wish you loads of happiness this weekend, weekdays and always. Make sure that you have some good friends to share your happiness with. Remember, relationship is not about blood; it is about who is there to hold your hands when you need the most. So long, until next Friday!