When there is no call to wake up
It was a Monday of sorts. Unformed completely. A little bit of the Sunday borrowed, reluctant to now part.
He wakes early everyday.
There was a time I used to rush to wake with him, my sleep trying to catch up with his. Then I gave up- I give up very easily. I wake to turn when he gets off the bed. I smile at his non seeing back. Its difficult even in hazy mornings to see how easy it is for him to walk away; no turns, no fond looks, no tender eyes.
I curl up the other way, the eternal companion of a pillow always on the other side; cold, pummeled hard and yet waiting.
I don't know why I do this. I might as well wake up.
But there are some days. After he walks around the frozen house, reads all the news that has already been made, puts the packet of milk on the kitchen counter and doesn't know what else to do while it thaws, that he comes back to me. Not exactly me. I have to work to not ruffle his ego and my sense of misplaced importance.
My mind is like an unfinished book; read and unread. By me even. Especially.
He walks over to the bed and tries climb into the blanket that is tightly wrapped around me. Its always a fight with me, even when I am pretending to sleep. I let him in or he lets himself in.
We both want to.
And then we both wake up.
He wakes early everyday.
There was a time I used to rush to wake with him, my sleep trying to catch up with his. Then I gave up- I give up very easily. I wake to turn when he gets off the bed. I smile at his non seeing back. Its difficult even in hazy mornings to see how easy it is for him to walk away; no turns, no fond looks, no tender eyes.
I curl up the other way, the eternal companion of a pillow always on the other side; cold, pummeled hard and yet waiting.
I don't know why I do this. I might as well wake up.
But there are some days. After he walks around the frozen house, reads all the news that has already been made, puts the packet of milk on the kitchen counter and doesn't know what else to do while it thaws, that he comes back to me. Not exactly me. I have to work to not ruffle his ego and my sense of misplaced importance.
My mind is like an unfinished book; read and unread. By me even. Especially.
He walks over to the bed and tries climb into the blanket that is tightly wrapped around me. Its always a fight with me, even when I am pretending to sleep. I let him in or he lets himself in.
We both want to.
And then we both wake up.
14 Comments:
Waited a long time to see your posts....Now there are three to read..:) HAPPY..!!
Hope there will be lots n lots of posts to read in the days to come..
Wonderfully written...
Will you believe me if I tell this is exactly, I too feel when he wakes up and goes without looking back where I will be trying to not wake up, yet yearning for a look or a touch or just a smile that tells he loves me or he thinks about me then...
Is every woman crazy like this, I wonder ..!!
I've started to read your blogs recently. Wonderful use of words... The whole scene is becoming clearer and clearer as I read along....
One question: Does this ever happen the other way around? :)
nice story!
Wowwwww Girl..
Am so glad ur back :))
We both want to.
And then we both wake up
Thats MONDAY...superb!!!
The best type of warmth in a cold cold world
great to see this after a long long time, guess it was open only for invited readers for sometime. nice to see it open again.
Devarenjini: Women are crazy.
Newsreader: For that you'll have to read his blog. :)
Roy: Ty.
Meena: :)
Sri: :D
Sudarshan: Philosophical and all I see! :) How've you been?
Manu: It was closed for everyone...
Very philo and all :)
Been good. Lost track of this place when u took a hiatus.
You have shown wonderful thought process...
Indeed a good post
the way you paint each fibre of a story, you made a fan out of me.
i dont mean to pry, but your words seem to tell the tale of an individual, you! or may be its my mind tryibg to fill the gaps. connecting dots that perhaps don't exist.
but if the dots do connect, then i would like to say this: as much a i would want to be witness of all the beauty your pen can create, i would want the pain and the melancholy to wither away, more
Superb Post...
We are having Traditional Collection for you..If u wanna see that i should be visit G3 Fashions.
http://www.g3fashions.in/women/sarees/georgette-sarees/1-15-122.html
propecia online propecia side effects percentage - photos of propecia results
Post a Comment
<< Home