Posted in Anecdotes

Midnight Pangs

It was nearly two by the time I decided to retire, even though the assignment was only done halfway. I’d have to cram it into the morning hours somehow and submit in the evening.

I realised Amigo SR had already fallen asleep on the only mattress in the hostel room. My idea to have him keep me company till completion of the work was evidently faulty. Better still, his head rested on my folded blanket for a pillow. Great. There was no way my malnourished body could stand the A/C-fan combo that he pledged alliance to, so I ended up attempting the obvious – that magic switch of items under the Head of a Sleeper. It was almost a success till I felt empowered enough to adjust the pillow further,  and lo, he was up.

Which is not really so bad on its own. But like every soul that gets woken up in the middle of slumber, he couldn’t sleep again.

We chatted for a while more, and when I finally realized he wasn’t going to shut up if I didn’t, I pretended to have an attack of narcolepsy and froze in mid-conversation. He prodded me a couple of times, and then started on some self-relevatory remarks and loud ruminations till finally falling asleep again.

Which is when I should have ideally slept, except for that pang of midnight hunger that hits you just when you’re in bed. I decided to sleep it out, fearing I’d wake him up again, but my tummy wouldn’t let me. Apparently sleep and hunger do not really go hand in hand. I waited for a while to make sure he was really out, my stomach grumbling all the way, before finally creeping out from under the blanket, only to be hit by the AC’s freezing blow.I stealthily and hurriedly made my way into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of slices of bread and ran back to protection under the covers.

Once satiated and warm, it struck me just how convenient and lucky it was that, when I was cold and hungry, I had bread and a blanket at hand, that I was sleeping on the floor by choice, and that too on a bed sheet. 

It was very very lucky indeed.

Posted in Anecdotes

Smith’s Bday

Amigo DC and I decided to step out of the Health Centre for refreshments in the evening. The few patients trickling in were being managed by the interns anyway.

The aimless search ended prematurely as I spotted a café quite close to the centre that I had noticed once before, but did not check out. A typical tourist hotspot with the routine stock of shawls, cotton garments, incense, handmade soaps, bags and jewellery. As we settled in after ordering tea, I noticed a clock on the wall behind me. Another antique piece kept for sale perhaps.

I peered closer and noticed it said Richard, and then around the middle, what I made out to be ‘Smith’s Bday’.DC inquired whether I was interested in buying it, but I pointed out how the clock was dead, stuck at 2:12. 

She laughed. “Maybe that’s when Smith was born”.

I looked at her and then the clock in surprise, grinning like an idiot.

She was joking of course, but I liked the idea. Clocks set to immortalise the moment of your birth. 

 I didn’t inquire about the clock after all. I didn’t want to know if the clock needed a new battery or it had died of old age. Nope. I’d rather be grinning stupidly.

Because sometimes, to be stupid is to know magic.