We are always unkind to Mondays.

We cringe at the very memory of them, we blame them for existing, we lament the weekends that they have terminated with their arrival. Little do we realise that it isn’t the Monday’s fault, it was its Fate to have been placed where it is – as the first day after the weekend.

If you think about it, Mondays as such aren’t bad guys. It is just that the previous days of the week piggyback on them and make them look so. Monday is only a scapegoat, a martyr who silently bears the ill-treatment every time it appears. It has only one-seventh part in the whole fiasco.

Let’s backtrack a bit and see what actually happens…

You pull yourself up from bed on a Monday morning, groaning and unable to open your tightly-shut eyes, because

You’d sent yourself to bed very, very late the previous night, because

You got up late on Sunday as it is a holiday, and as a result all the chores you’d planned for Sunday was delayed, because

The previous night, being Saturday, your friends had come over for dinner and the party went on late, late, almost till morning, because

You just had to release the pressure you had been enduring the entire week at work, because

Friday was the deadline and you were nowhere near the target and you had to do nights-out from Tuesday to Friday and you deserved a break at least on Saturday, because

Monday morning was groggy and you reached late for work and the Monday morning blues didn’t let you work the whole day.


You relaxed tooooooooo much over the weekend that the very thought of going back to slog makes you terribly depressed.

Whatever be your reasons, Mondays do not deserve the blemish on their name, do they?