Night capers

Nights have always seemed short to me. They seem to get over in a jiffy. Not because I want more time to sleep. No, I am not fond of sleeping. It's a waste of time. I always felt I would be doing enough of it in my grave. So why waste one third of my life too on it?

These days are however an exception. As the hubby works round the clock and remains out of the house, particularly at night, I prowl about like a zombie. All lamps at different corners of the house are switched off only in the morning. The TV blinks and blares away into the night. I read, I surf the net, I surf TV channels. I walk out onto the little bedroom balcony and look at looming dark neighbouring buildings. I spot a couple of stars amidst silver clouds and then I suddenly rush in, slamming the french windows shut. A sudden chill runs down my spine.

I get a drink of juice or water and some cookies. I settle down on the sofa to surf again. At some point sleep pushes my lids shut. Asleep yet conscious. Troubled though. A sharp thought quickly passes uninvited through the mind. I get up startled.

Hubby's second cousin died about 2 weeks back. Young and spoilt. I think excessive drinking damaged his liver and killed him at 26. But the next night and the next, his mother saw him several times. Most people in the huge family and the neighbourhood too have seen the boy sitting on the stairs and weeping. After his death. We listened in wonder when we heard about it. But I realised the wonder turned into a nightmare for me as I struggled to keep awake. Not sure how it would help. But there is a certain confidence and strength in the powers of an alert mind.

Yesterday I mentioned it to the hubby who reasoned "You hardly knew him. He wouldn't come to visit you."

I argued. "But he might come looking for you. And when you aren't home, it's me he'll find!"

Since when did we need to know dead people for them to appear before us? Now, at 4am, as I write this, I think of a time eons ago when we were in school. In the team for national school games at a little town in the interiors of Maharashtra. We were put up in little igloo shaped individual domes. Boys and girls separately. Restrooms, a 2 minutes walk at the other end of the ground.

One of the boys, a close friend, woke up at 4am, wanting to pee. He got out and looked around. Not too far, he thought and dashed across to the far end. He entered the gents toilet, an open to the sky area. Glad to see another guy there, he went to stand next to him and unzipped.

"It's kind of isolated and scary here, isn't it?" he threw at the other guy and turned to look at him. And lo, there was no one there. Just vanished. Fear gripped him as he looked around. There was no way the guy could have walked away. Finding his legs, he sprinted as fast as he could. And the next morning and in the days to follow, we heard a lot of other stories too.

I can feel the hair on my unwaxed arms rising even as I write this. But I am a brave girl tonight. No more nightmares, the TV is silent, the sitting room and passage are in darkness, the only light on in the house is my bedroom one. And yes, hubby is still out working, poor thing. And before you question, then why the hell am I still awake at 4am, I answer, it's more out of habit now. And before you finally utter, "bravo!" I must let on that I have a friend blissfully snoring away in the other room.