Skip to main content

The Wakemare


The “Wakemare”
By Dinesh K Kapila
First the Definition. Nightmare – Simple, when you are sleeping you have a really bad dream. Wakemare -  When you are about to nod off or rather want to  and cannot. Why, Read on.
Last week. It was night time, around 1130 pm. Time to nod off I thought. Close up on Warren Buffet’s thoughts and strategies I was reading and prepare for the next day. The next day promised to be a long day. I decided to turn around in my bed to reach for the switch of the bed lamp. My glance went up and froze. I actually froze. Then decided to watch what happened next. It was looking around, flicking it’s tongue (atleast I thought so) and I just did not know what it would do next. That meant I could not sleep. Or turn off the bed lamp. My “wakemare” was underway.  Then the damned thing moved a few paces and again assessed it’s position. Meanwhile the wifey slept peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil. Being partly interested in matters spiritual is an advantage at such times, you sleep peacefully and calmly. Life as it comes obviously.  
Back to the intruder. It darted towards a painting. I planned a million strategies to chase it away. Spraying, getting a “danda” (stick), opening a door and chasing it out, throwing a shoe, All involved physical motions from me, something I was not inclined to do. The option of waking up our Jeeves late at night was also not appealing. Ignoring it meant I would not be able to sleep. What if it crawled onto the ceiling and God forbid, fell on me. Meanwhile my mind wandered off to how it had made an entry into the bedroom. With all due precautions, these damn creatures turned up every summer or rather at the beginning of every summer, no matter what we tried by way of barriers.
 Lizards have always freaked me out. I detest them and I think they return the thought and emotion. I must have nodded off in my “wakemare” but just noticed or felt the motion in my mind that the reptile had darted from the painting to another painting for shelter. I love my collection but at such times I feel why I have them. Once in Ropar, somewhere around the peak 2005 summer, I came home late from Nawanshahr, checked my mail, went to my bedroom, switched on the Air conditioner, and moved towards my bed. I had  a newspaper in my hand and just sat on the bed while lifting the pillow. A creepy crawly miserable damn lizard was having a cosy siesta there.  Now I don’t know who broke the world record for the fastest ever reaction and movement. I jumped maybe three feet in the air in one go (not easy, see my snaps to understand) and the lizard moved really really fast (faster than Bolt) in the opposite direction. It took time for my heart to stabilise. My helper just could not understand the issue and seemed all to puzzled. However that trauma is a consistent memory and I am always on guard ever since then.    
The “wakemare” continued. On guard, I partly slept and partly stayed on guard. Looking for any movement and planning a counter move. The creepy crawly was obviously a strategist, it decided to stay wherever it was and not move at all. This doubled the pain of remaining awake. I hoped it would not enter my cupboard or shoe rack. The scenario can be really vast on such occasions. The clock counted off the passing minutes and time, my need to sleep only grew more intensely but I was tied down by the intruder. Suddenly the better half opened maybe half an eye and grumbled about the bed lamp being on and a nuisance. My being up and hence the bed lamp being on was obviously not that much of a concern. I simply said there is a lizard in the room. Pat came the response and advise, “now go to sleep and switch off the lamp, we will see to it in the morning”. It was very difficult but somehow I managed to sleep once the bed light was off. Maybe in between I got up to check, maybe I did not. As to the intruder, that pesky reptile, I still don’t know where the hell it is. It’s obviously somewhere plotting it’s next devilish move and keeping me alert. Alert as in opening the cupboards, doors, curtains etc. Our paths are yet to cross. Till then well that’s that.      
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Forgotten Unsung Heroes of the Battle of Madhumati. 1971. Bangladesh. 45 Cavalry.

  The Forgotten Unsung Heroes of the Battle of Madhumati. 1971. Bangladesh. 45 Cavalry. By Dinesh K Kapila  (Chief General Manager (Retd). NABARD (As discussed with Major General (then Major) Pramod   Kumar Batra, Retd and Other Veterans)   Just a Glimpse – Cdr 62 Mountain Brigade – “Pramod, I believe it is hard to maneuver PT 76 tanks in this terrain and waters”. Pat is the answer, “it is hard and I may struggle, but you will never see me to give up or fai”l. They stood together, on the edge of the swift flowing Madhumati, the staff and soldiers waiting. It was dark. Very Dark. After waiting for some time the Bde Cdr had said, “lets go”. Major PK Batra vividly recollects even now watching the Cdr's face as he looked at the map with a torch. He was calm and very quiet, showing ,no fear or afraid and maintaining a dignified silence. He remembered the old saying, "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown". It was a moment in not only the life of the Brigade Co...
17 comments
Read more

A Knock on The Door and a Memory

  A Knock on The Door and a Memory A Short Story By Dinesh K Kapila  (written for a contest, had to start with Knock Knock ...) Knock knock. The sharp rap shattered the silence, jolting her from a restless daze. Who would knock so late ? Open the door ! The voice, urgent, cut through the stillness. Her breath hitched. That voice ……. Unmistakable. She froze, heart pounding, hand inches from the knob. It could not be…. It sounded just like Dheeraj. How could it be? Just could not be. She was wondering, in the meantime, the knocking continued. Sharp raps. Relentless. She stood back a couple of steps. Wondering. Thinking should she open the door. It was late. Very late. ‘Wait’, she shouted loudly. ‘I will just take a minute”. That would buy her time. To think. What did he look like now. It was now more than three decades since they last met. She had moved on and so had Dheeraj. Life, it gives chances, you grab some, some you let go. On an impulse she steeled herself and o...
3 comments
Read more

Appearances ! Oh Chandigarh !

  Appearances ! Oh Chandigarh ! Dinesh K Kapila Appearances. The real self. The perceived self. The public self for the world to see, sometimes multiple selves. That is us. Surya felt only Chandigarh took it at times to another level. Surya was with his wife Annie at a house in a tony locality in Chandigarh. Visiting. For those who do not know, Chandigarh has a clear cut demarcation. Here localities are called Sectors. Sector 1 to Sector 30 are directly maintained by the Chandigarh Administration, they are visibly cleaner. Sector 8, Sector 9, Sector 6 are viewed as exclusive. It’s deeply rooted, this degree of exclusivity. The accents are apparently plusher and softer and lifestyles more lah de la, that is the refrain. Then come the other sectors. As you cross over from Sector 30 onwards, maintained by a private company, the perception itself changes, so goes the wisdom. One old timer, a hard nosed businessman from Sector 6 once told Surya, you guys in the Sectors such as 33,3...
1 comment
Read more