Discipline Re-defined

I drew the curtains apart before going to bed, hoping to be blown away by the wind that never blows, in spite of 7 windows of varying sizes and 3 doors, in my room (I have no clue how the architect managed to fit in so many in one room). Ok, 1 of these doors opens into a loo… so let’s not count it, it is shut most of time, both when I am in the loo, and when I am not. Now this occurance of drawing the curtains happens at a time when most of the people in my neighbourhood are in their respective la-la lands. If I am dead tired, which is a rare occasion, for I never go through any tiring exercise throughout the day, i fall asleep almost immediately, if not, then I wait for lala land to come to me.

I know not when I wake up finally, but once definitely very early in the morning, when loads of uninvited guests barge into my room, in the form of sunlight. Get up, Bhutu, get up and draw the curtains. It seems to be a religious act, which is followed by deep meditation in a comfortable sleeping posture. Finally when I wake up, again I know not what time it is, for the time is never fixed, I loiter around aimlessly trying to find out where the morning newspaper is. And waiting for some generous being to hand me a cup of tea. If no one does, then make coffee, and help myself, tuning into a particular radio station. When lazing around gets boring, I get up, to finish my, what is called morning chores, which includes the bath as well. Once all that is done, for the first time since morning, I check the time. If it is anywhere close to 10.30, I start walking office-wards, if not some more of radio, another cup of coffee, and no breakfast.

In office, work continues, as the number of emptied coffee cups fill up the dustbin, under my comp. once my shift draws to a close, the work decides whether I need to stay longer or not. So, here too there is no fixed time. When finally work ends, walking back home absent mindedly has become quite a norm. The Phari to Gariahat footpath seems to grow narrower by the day, as Pujo approaches, leaving very lil space for someone as healthy as me to fit in.

On reaching home, I realize I have nothing left to do. The television has been captured by my brother, so the only one to revert to is the love of my life, a machine that works, sings, and looks just the way I want her to. Well sometime back, she wasn’t to. The doc said, she needs an upgradation, for the stuff I do with her. So now I have upgraded her to a dual personality, though her look still remains the same. Having spent the next five six hours with her, I get back to the recurring act of drawing the curtain. One again, I know not what time it is. Just for the record, I don’t wear a watch.

Well, as my friend says, I am officially employed to do nothing. Is this what I wanted? Well may be!!!!