Quick flashback….. There used to be a time when I abhorred the idea of
sleeping. Weekend or holiday afternoons during our childhood in Germany used to
be preceded by a stern warning from Dad that if we do not sleep, then there would
be no TV for us in the evening.
I even remember this particular occasion
that bro and I had been looking forward to watching this movie (Valhalla). As
usual, Dad told us that in the event that we do not sleep, he’d not show us the
movie. Being the obedient son that he is, Bro went ahead and slept, while I
spent couple of hours tearing off the wallpaper on my side of the room,
counting minutes as they went by. When I heard Dad approach our room, I quickly
climbed under the covers and pretended to sleep. I waited patiently, listened
to my Dad bending over Bro and then over me to check if we were sleeping and
then I heard the door shut. I immediately jumped up to find my Dad standing
inside the room – He noticed that I wasn’t asleep. And guess what? I didn’t get
to watch the movie. Part of his parenting style, there were no empty threats.
However, he recorded the movie (unbeknownst to me), and surprised me with it
after 2 days and after he made me promise never to try and cheat again.
Since Bro and I shared a room, we also had the habit of telling each
other made up bedtime stories. He would tell me stories of wars, machine gun
sounds and bombs and everything to which I had to audibly nod every 5 seconds.
The next day, I would narrate my story of fairies and princesses and unicorns.
If asked to acknowledge that he’s listening, he’d assure me that he was….only
for me to find him snoring by the time I finish my story.
Fast forward. We reached India and I discovered the joy of sleeping.
Afternoon siestas on weekends and holidays and sleeping in really late during
holidays (and I mean really late). Bro had a tough time waking me up every
morning at 5 o’clock during my 10th standard to ensure that I study
(only to find me asleep on my books, or in the midst of a suspiciously long
personal prayer half an hour later J).
Hostel life was a wonderful time. I used to get up at 5 on weekdays,
but on weekends, I would get up only to eat and to attend calls from my
parents.
I’ll cut short a long story, but I am sure you get my drift. I love to
sleep and even having kids changed nothing about that. If the boys try to wake
me up on weekends, I pull them into bed and scratch their backs and encourage
them to sleep with me for a while.
Coming to Germany, I was really concerned about my sleep. What if I overslept?
There’s no one to wake me up here…. And sleep, is one thing that I have not
done after coming here. I go to sleep early (by 9 pm – so that I definitely get
enough sleep) and I started off by waking up to the alarm at 5:45. Slowly, I started
waking up earlier and now, I wake up at 5 or 5:15 even on holidays!
Now the reason I am writing all this? The time now is 23:20 and I
actually went to sleep an hour and half ago….but was (obviously) unsuccessful. So
I thought I’d put my thoughts down and that I’ll hopefully be yawning by the
end of this (not a yawn so far). Maybe I will be like those grandmas who love
telling their visitors that they just can’t sleep because they are so old.
Well, I think I will head back to bed now and will myself to sleep….maybe I
should try counting sheep….or ask Morpheus or the sandman to visit me…
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