Maid of Honour

For the first time in two years, I missed an important deadline. I clean forgot the all-important ritual: the new post-that has been churned out for my blog, month after month, with unfailing regularity. The reason is not far to seek. November (and not Eliot's April) was the cruelest month for us: the dear, efficient maid, who had promised to return after a month's well-earned annual leave, was nowhere in sight. No word, no update...total, inexplicable silence and continued agony-mingled suspense. Will she, won't she was the question that taunted us day in, day out.

And all the time, the chores kept mounting. Despite the part-timer (in a perpetual, fast-forward mode) who did the rounds and took off the major load, mundane stuff, the daily grind kept increasing by the day. First, it was just making the beds and operating the machine; then folding and arranging more and more clothes into neat piles became a daily event as woolens became a part of life. Next, blankets got added to the general scene, augmenting one's pain that much more while making the beds ...so on ad infinitum. Therefore, it is perhaps understandable why I missed my promised rendezvous with the virtual world.

But came Delightful December, and all was set right. The expanse of suspense ended, the magic call from the remote corner of Bengal was received amidst rapture; the car was duly dispatched-what if it had to wait at the station for 6 long hours??-and finally, the old faithful was back. Drum roll and red carpet.

God is in His Heaven and all is right with the world.