Sleeping duty

I love sleep. I look forward to it -- as and when it comes. When I was a boy, my mother made it a point to put me to sleep in the afternoons, often with the assistance of two tight slaps and frequent checks. Over a period of time, she gave it up, thanks, in large part, to afternoon television, which left me to find other modes of entertainment. Computers were non-existent, reading was a drag (mostly due to my lack of understanding) and playing outside in the Delhi summer was out of question. I did devise other games with some unwilling candidates but they usually ended up with irate neighbours and crying boys, and me facing the wall watching paint dry.

I jumped on the mattress that night, and was promptly taken by sleep, only to be rudely woken up four hours later by two events right outside my windowu00a0

As I grew older, sleep became a rare commodity. With the introduction of cable, video games and PCs, there was suddenly too much to do! Obviously, I was spoilt for choice and would often be caught doing all of the above at the same time, which earned me parental ire, which, unfortunately, stands to this day. I started working with a picture agency sometime in the 90s . This had me staring at pictures all day long, frequently interrupted by photographers who would go on and on about how each picture was their baby, and I learnt the subtle art of silent snoring.u00a0 This was a newfound ability and I cherished it for the rest of my days in Delhi.

This skill was lost the day I landed in Mumbai five years ago. My new flat and its surroundings were calm and secluded enough and I almost waltzed in joy. I jumped on the mattress that night and was promptly taken by sleep, only to be rudely woken up four hours later by these two events -- a pigeon orgy and the cawing of about a billion crows -- right outside my window. I soon found out that some kind lady had taken it upon herself to feed all those darned creatures everyday since the last 35 years. I was aghast, but kept my mouth shut and invested in a good pair of ear-muffles. Not that they were any help.

My current house is bang next to a school which starts its day with carnival music, delirious children beating the drums instructed by their equally frantic teachers and loud, spirited speeches. But I am at peace now, for I have realised this -- the city that never sleeps never lets you sleep
either. Sigh.