Nocturnal pub hopping

 

“I never slept a wink last night!” or “I was thinking about nothing so much that before I realized it was time to get out of bed!”. How many times have I heard similar proclamations from my grandmothers, mother, and elderly aunts as I was growing up. As is the wont of the young, I never paid any attention to them. In fact, I used to envy them, for I slept the sleep of the ‘ innocente’ the moment my head touched the pillow! (What a waste of eight hours!)

After years of falling asleep whenever and wherever I wanted, I was infected with my ancestral DNA! The first time it happened (maybe five years back), I never woke up to the fact that I was contaminated, I watched TV (very low volume), played on my iPad, read a book, had some warm milk, and darkened the room as much as possible. But nothing happened! The clock was stuck at three am (the time when spirits float around!).

 “Now what else could I do?”, I wondered.

I looked and appreciated the beautiful night sky; I even thought of singing but stopped myself (I am a very sensitive person, and I did not want to disturb the neighbours) Time did not seem to move! I wished I was a student once again when twenty-four hours were never enough!

For a year after this, this episode never recurred. I had almost forgotten about it. When it struck me as an epidemic! Almost every alternate day for a week  I pub-hopped ( I had water, milk, buttermilk, and even wine! Along with peanuts, chips, cheese slices, and other snacky stuff). I stopped watching TV, playing, or reading two hours before bed, but to no avail.

Then it stopped as eerily as it had begun.

When the next strike came, I was prepared. I took my blanket quietly and moved into the spare bedroom (It had a harder mattress!) the light from outside fell on the clock face which laughed at me! the second hand moved and yet the hour and minute hands never did. I seriously thought of rising and checking the clock battery, but I knew it was just having fun at my expense. I then moved to the living room with its nice cuddly sofas (maybe I needed some hugs!). There was a soft breeze floating around from the balcony; the mists suspended in midair wrapped around the mountains outside, did not pat me to sleep, instead, they nudged my imagination, and I started planning the next chapter of my book trying to incorporate the scenery!

It was now time to confess! I lightly mentioned this to the lord and master (who has never had a day’s problem like this!), he was sympathetic, not empathetic; to the doctor in the family (Just a passing phase MA it will go) and to the baby of the family (Mama you have to reduce your screen time!)

I used to be a Science student, so I decided to analyze why this was happening. First, I tried to experiment with my dinner, then I looked at my lunar calendar (I had read somewhere that the moon plays havoc with women’s minds as they had more water content than men!). I almost thought of indulging in an excel sheet to record my nocturnal meanderings, then I rapped my own knuckles saying that the more I thought about it the more my mind would get excited so that was put on the back burner.

Now after five years of wallowing in this strange sleep pattern, I have come out in the open to everybody! Is it old age? Or is it a growing-up mind? Or is it just the DNA having its revenge? Whatever it is I have encompassed it as a part of me. These days I try to enjoy these nocturnal adventures and give them different names and to titivate them with imagination, music, and plans for my future lives!

I may have won the battle but the war rages on…. My arms of logic, reasoning, or thought have failed to get under my enemy’s skin. Maybe what I need to do is change my outlook and think this is not my enemy but a friend and maybe then I shall discover a loving pal or an affectionate spirit to enliven my pub-hopping days!