Musings

He came back from a walk after dinner and gulped down half a bottle of water in the searing summer heat. He hadn’t felt good in quite some time recently. A rather long time, in fact. Nothing seemed to be able to enliven his rusting mind. A usually refreshing glass of iced tea didn't make a difference either.

He thought about what had gone wrong and when. Nothing particularly outstanding struck him. It seemed that over the past few months, he had become sort of detached from everyone. Involved, being together with them, staying in touch, but still somehow detached. As if some invisible wall had crept up between him and everything else. After some events in the previous few days, he was thinking about the futility and utility of it all. All of it was supposed to mould him, shape him. But into what?

He could be described as an impervious façade masking an undertone of gloom and helplessness and an explosive presence of anger, standing under a cloud of uncertainty. He knew that he was about to be ravaged in less than two weeks’ time, and was almost confident that what lay ahead was beyond his ken. These thoughts stirred around for a while, and as it always seemed to happen in recent times, they vanished. They seemed to have no effect on him. As if they never existed to begin with.

His apparently isolated, stagnant, doubt-filled self then resumed the mundane activities of daily life.

Forty Winks

Around 0100 hrs.

Just saw the latest score of a high profile football match online. Switch off my computer and tube light. Speed up the fan, dress down to my shorts and lie down in bed.

0200 hrs.

Not asleep yet. Random thoughts swirling around in my mind. All sorts of random things spring up and I can't stop thinking about them. Getting frustrated now. Trying to clear my mind before falling asleep, but looks like mission impossible.

0230 hrs.

Still not asleep. Kick around uneasily in irritation. I can actually sense the heat of impending anger rushing through my head. It isn't doing any good in helping me sleep, though...

0300 hrs.

Still stirring about uncomfortably. Find it a little too bright inside my room. Why don't they turn off that damn floodlight? An argument based on logic is out of question since they blame it all on some 'timer' which keeps some of those lamps on at midday and off at 7 pm. Nobody wants to be responsible for anything around here.

Cover up the remaining open part of my window with old newspapers, then go back and lie down in bed.

0715 hrs.

John Petrucci makes his influence felt as my phone starts belting out the delightful opening notes of Glasgow Kiss. I promptly wake up, in a dazed condition, turn off the melodious alarm and go back to sleep. Screw the 8 AM class.

0930 hrs.

Feels good, despite having gone through all sorts of weird dreams in an apparently fully conscious state. I can clearly see what I'm dreaming, and when I'm seeing those things, I'm fully aware that I'm dreaming. I can remember most of it. Some strange phenomenon at work here; can't remember any such thing being mentioned in that presentation on sleep that me and a few friends given a couple of years ago.

Brush my teeth, rush down to the mess for breakfast before they start taking things off the tables. Have a class at 1000 hrs.

Then follows a largely nondescript day loaded with classes, maybe a couple of hours' sleep to utilize time during bunked classes, a lazy feeling stretching throughout the afternoon, maybe a game of football in the evening, dinner and then a generally somewhat productive post-dinner session.

Then the whole cycle repeats. Over and over and over again.