2011: Elusive rest

The morning is not the start; the night is not the end. I was awake all night in some state not sure of what was real and what was a dream. The images are vague and transient and at times almost clear but not quite. The sense of something concrete is what I am able to feel when Bhooli tries to break down my door. If I lock it she assumes it’s unlocked and the resistance the door seems to be putting up is not real. One can’t really blame her, it’s the monsoons now and all the doors have grown fat on moisture. It can’t really help itself it was just built like that. If it’s unlocked, well she is greeted by the semi nude form of my hairiness, which she does not really mind. She just drops her gaze and continues in her quiet determined way to the bathroom. She just goes about her work having successfully pushed me out of bed.

A slight dull pain interspersed with and odd sharp pinch reminds me that the mattress is old and lumpy, that I am getting old and that my sciatica is acting up. I bathe every day, I sleep on time every day, some days it’s later than others but give or take a couple of hours. The same TV shows bring the day to an end and signal the need to go to sleep. Is it really need or compulsion or conditioned response? Most days I just bang the door shut , jam the door so tight that the Bhooli struggles some more the next morning all the time hoping that she gives up one day. Maybe on my lucky day she will leave me alone. Slipping into bed has the same set of actions like some sort of ritual. Not to mention the orientation. Someone managed to seed a notion that sleeping on the east west axis gives good sleep.