Dear reader, I began
writing this column more than three years ago. When I was first informed about the opportunity to write a humour column for a newspaper, my heart leapt with joy. I had grown up on humour columns by Art Buchwald, and it seemed like my life had come a full circle – from searching for his humour columns, to having my own.
I named my column Urban Bourbon, for I had imagined my column to be a delectable shot of whiskey amidst a sunny working day. Since it started appearing on Wednesdays, the humble day of the week has found a special place in my heart. But the world in general has no love for Wednesdays. All the other days are accorded respect, reverence or fondness.
Mondays are respected and spoken about with a tone of seriousness. That’s the day when the big meetings are scheduled, when people take a break and return to their work with renewed vigour. Religiously, Mondays are noted as the day dedicated to Lord Shiva. It’s ironic that the God who chose to live away from society got clubbed into the same day with dreary meetings and presentations. Tuesdays are dedicated to Lord Hanuman, the presiding deity of bachelors like me.
Thursdays are devoted to holy activities and worshipping Lakshmi – the goddess of wealth. Since they arrive a day before Friday, Thursdays receive some warmth as they are the twilight between a working week and a weekend. Fridays have a lot going for them. The last working day of the week for corporate employees, the beginning of the mythical long weekend. For movie reviewers like me, Fridays bring with them the prospect of a new, interesting film. Fridays are so favourably looked upon that even if we have nothing special going for us, we still thank god that it’s a Friday.
Saturdays have a way of bringing a smile to everyone’s faces. Even the employees of my bank get every second Saturday off, a welcome change from their sour countenance. Saturday is when old friends meet, and families step out for dinners, and alcoholics drink like liver cirrhosis is only a rumour. We have been wired to look forward to Sundays since childhood. It was always the day for the best cartoon shows, and the laziest lunches.
But Wednesdays have been largely ignored. It’s called ‘hump day’ in the West for falling right in middle of the work week. But for most of us, the logic doesn’t hold true as we work on Saturdays. When they finally decided to make a movie called ‘A Wednesday’, it was a false alarm about a city about to explode.
For somebody who came from a small town, the pronunciation of the word ‘Wednesday’ itself was a barrier for me. My life in urban spaces is a journey from saying ‘wed-nes-day’ to ‘whens-day’. And even after all the effort, Wednesdays receive no love or joy.
And that is why, dear reader, if you’re reading this column on a Wednesday, I hope the column was a little shot of bourbon between a boring working day. We have three more days before the festivities of the weekend arrive again. And in a way, perhaps much of life is simply grinding through the mundane in expectation of future happiness. Maybe our lives are just long, drawn-out Wednesdays!
Hriday Ranjan
Writer, comedian