A night in life
Every morning like every other mornings are a drag. I have extremely uncanny sleeping habits. I like to read till I'm drowsy, and when I hit the sack its painful as the days memory seems to recollect and one pool of thought leads to another. The last cigarette is reassuring that I'm only strengthning the habit, and well the tea (or coffee) is painless numbing.
My parents often say that I talk in my sleep, my uncle would say that those who talk in their sleep have restless souls. Sometimes when I'm offering myself to indulge in dark and depressive thoughts, I believe its quite true. For in my dreams and sleep, I've often engulfed in strange realms that brought sadness and melancholy to existence in my life. Of course, its pure stretch of imagination and nothing else -- I'd like to believe.
There've been times, I've felt forces that've been draped on me. A force that is invisible which blankets and spreads across me. But that used to happen a lot when I was in my century old school.
I remember once, back there, it was a late April night, I had stepped out of the corridor to drink water from the water filter where we used to fill our bottles. I was strangely not afraid at that time. I had finished drinking water, and I was making my way back to my room. I saw someone, and it seemed like someone in the hostel walking towards me. I thought it was someone feeling thirsty and like me was also heading towards the water cooler.
So I stopped, and looked at him. Wondering who it could be. Although it was late enough, and that too in school, to be hanging out so late. When the person in front of me disappeared right before me. The boy looked as though a juniour of mine, wearing a nightsuit that I was extremely aware of.
I wasn't scared even after that, I made my way back to my bed. And then the shock wore off, and I felt the shivers. Strange.
I've also seen my ancestors in my dreams; talking to me, upset about how the times have changed. I once saw a friend of mine who had died in a accident in the holidays.
Once asleep, I'm unaware like every other human being. I've always been fascinated, as though its a time when one is drawn closer and very closer to his or her soul. Of course, reading and writing about strange things also influence people. But its something which lingers and for long.
Every morning like every other mornings are a drag. I have extremely uncanny sleeping habits. I like to read till I'm drowsy, and when I hit the sack its painful as the days memory seems to recollect and one pool of thought leads to another. The last cigarette is reassuring that I'm only strengthning the habit, and well the tea (or coffee) is painless numbing.
My parents often say that I talk in my sleep, my uncle would say that those who talk in their sleep have restless souls. Sometimes when I'm offering myself to indulge in dark and depressive thoughts, I believe its quite true. For in my dreams and sleep, I've often engulfed in strange realms that brought sadness and melancholy to existence in my life. Of course, its pure stretch of imagination and nothing else -- I'd like to believe.
There've been times, I've felt forces that've been draped on me. A force that is invisible which blankets and spreads across me. But that used to happen a lot when I was in my century old school.
I remember once, back there, it was a late April night, I had stepped out of the corridor to drink water from the water filter where we used to fill our bottles. I was strangely not afraid at that time. I had finished drinking water, and I was making my way back to my room. I saw someone, and it seemed like someone in the hostel walking towards me. I thought it was someone feeling thirsty and like me was also heading towards the water cooler.
So I stopped, and looked at him. Wondering who it could be. Although it was late enough, and that too in school, to be hanging out so late. When the person in front of me disappeared right before me. The boy looked as though a juniour of mine, wearing a nightsuit that I was extremely aware of.
I wasn't scared even after that, I made my way back to my bed. And then the shock wore off, and I felt the shivers. Strange.
I've also seen my ancestors in my dreams; talking to me, upset about how the times have changed. I once saw a friend of mine who had died in a accident in the holidays.
Once asleep, I'm unaware like every other human being. I've always been fascinated, as though its a time when one is drawn closer and very closer to his or her soul. Of course, reading and writing about strange things also influence people. But its something which lingers and for long.
posted by jairaj at Tuesday, August 01, 2006
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