a bloody nightmare

“Close your eyes tightly and listen carefully, there are waves out there trying to tell you something” My Granny said and like one naturally born monk who was curious to explore the unknown, I closed my eyes even tightly and paid all attention, I could hear the tempest of the sea herself, roaring and taking her anger out to the moon above and the land beside her, wondering what story she has to tell me I fell into the spells of sleep as a child. It was Noorakka and Granddad’s ‘fish bet’ stories Granny loved to recite and the unknown story of the sea I always waited that gave me sleep. But Today?

All mornings jam-packed with Appuchetan’s last night dream or the story he cooked up to amuse me , he did magic. We spoke of waves, the sun who went behind my Granny’s backyard and the mangoes that fell beyond the walls on those summer lit days. We took mud and mixed it with all possible colours, made tea, sand castles and decorated our ‘shop’ and he said he couldn’t sleep last night because of his nightmare about a demon, more like the cartoon villain we watched every evening with Tatteppa’s special dosa and chatni with ghee. I wondered how no such character appeared in my dreams, I was desperate to have a nightmare. But Today?

I was alone but happy inside my tent I made of bed-sheets and pillows at the corners of the bed, I hid inside and played all day with dolls and cards talking to myself. I made my dolls sleep and watched them with at most glee. When Kannappay came, he became another part of my tent-world, with dolls, we happily slept inside and I became the liar of stories and we slept, without worries, without thoughts, without memories, innocent as kids. But Today?

Hostel days, I watched the traffic and the lights on my roof, I could see colours-red, yellow, orange, it flashed like that, from people flying to unknown realms, they marked a light on my roof. I remembered days I slept with my Amma in a congested room, Acha snoring next to us and there were occasional lights on the roof, people hardly travelled at night there, moreover it was a village, people didn’t know where to go. When my roommate slept early I was counting the light rays, it later turned to letter writing under torch lights and then to painting empty bottles with fabric paint. Late night parties and chit chats and card games became familiar, we ‘slept’ late. But Today?

...I miss Noorakka and Granddad’s ‘bet’, Appuchetan and his magic, my tents and the contentment I felt, the tired night after hostel parties. I’m growing with less sleep than yesterday. I wish I lived by the sea, I wish we still spoke Appucheta, I wish I could make tents, I wish I could be as imaginative as I was few years back. I wish I could sleep!