Curl on

blessyaugust — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 07:08:45 +0000

My perception is most keen when I wake up in the morning. It’s a comfortable bed. The room is always nippy because of the cooler close to my head. I lay buried under a bedsheet. I curl up in different positions, feeling the softness of the mattress and the warmth of my own body. I love lying like this. Awake but sleeping. It’s the only half hour of my day that makes perfect sense. Lying like this I rewind the dreams that I just woke up from. The good ones. And these too are usually about lying in bed. There’s a pleasant craving for hot tea and buttered toast and a warm bath. Buttered toast. I fondly remember the taste of it throughout the day.

But soon I have to make myself get out of bed. And the day begins to suck. My perceptive powers begin to diminish rapidly. Which bathroom do I take bath in? Why is that girl staring at me? How do I walk to the library in this sun? Whatever happened to those red pants that I had bought? What is this teacher saying? Why does Mimamsa have to sound so close to Mimosa? What should I eat for lunch?

By evening the chaos has reached a crescendo. Everything is a yellow blur and people in my head are screaming Why am I here? Who are these people? At this point my perception level begins to closely resemble that of a comatose person. There is only nagging, desperate desire is to crawl back into bed.

Life isn’t particularly cruel. There’s no starvation, no 5 sisters whom I have to marry off, no terrorist negotiations that I have conduct during my lunch break. But still nothing makes sense like that first half hour of semi-sleep where I’m hugging my bed. Yummm buttered toast.

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