The Quest For A Remedy
Anand’s sculpted face was partially visible in the dark. His head rested comfortably on thick cushioned pillows piled one over the other. The air-conditioner’s soft sound emitting cool air into the compact room could lull anyone to sleep but me.
My eyelids struggled to block my vision while my ears concentrated on my cyclical breathing. My cotton wool stuffed, medium-sized soft pillow, custom made from Coimbatore was a marriage gift from my aunt. My mother-in-law would say, ‘If I had this pillow and this bed, I would sleep in no time!’
I was married at an early age of twenty-one while my friends enjoyed their college life. Anand learnt about my disability during our first meeting at my parent’s house. Surprisingly, he still had a smile on his face, and he held my hand and said, ‘It will go away, I promise’ as if we were already engaged. His assurance took my breath away and that was one of the reasons for me to tie a knot with him. He was an angel in disguise. He still is but he is slowly giving up now.
My desire to pursue master’s degree in applied statistics moved us to a rented apartment near my college. My post-graduation functioned as a birth control pill until it’s successful completion.
The abdomen urged to be relieved. I silently rose from the bed and reached for my slippers at the bed’s edge. My feet found the slippers in the dark and transported me outside the room. The door was carefully closed to keep Anand’s sleep undisturbed. My left forefinger pressed the light switch of the bathroom in the adjacent room. My eyes fearfully wandered around the four walls to see any occupation by lizards. This time there were none, the area was safe. The sound of the toilet flush echoed but not strong enough to wake Anand.
My sleeplessness carried me to the drawing room’s couch. The wall clock’s hour needle at twelve and the minute one around six glowed. The apartments visible through the glass window bore deserted balconies partially occupied by machine-washed clothes getting naturally dried by the warm air. The security guard’s stick thumping on the ground flowed in rhythm with the whistle shrills flowing through his powerful chest to his lips.
A few mosquitoes hovering around my ears and arms distracted the focus. My path returned to the bathroom wall cabinet for the mosquito repellent. A mosquito bit me on my left arm before I could apply the cream on my skin. The drawing room’s fan revolving at maximum speed failed to beat the hot weather. My face covered with the repellent perspired, but the dominance of the mosquitoes barred me from pouring chilly water over my face. The clock needles denoted three fifteen am!
I walked on the moon-light guided floor with light steps to tire myself. My eyes were partially closing but my brain was completely awake. My feet ached but I remained vigilant as the night owl.
My grandmother was an insomniac at an era when the world was a much better place to live. What was the stress that kept her awake in the nights? I always wondered. Her company at this hour would have been wonderful.
I started reading my course book while the crickets chirped in the dark. Their symphony gradually faded with the onset of the morning dawn. There was sufficient light to walk towards the bathroom. The direct water supply had to be collected to get us through the day. My feeble consciousness placed the thin pipe connecting the water tap, inside a vacant blue plastic drum. It normally took fifteen minutes to fill, and it was tough to be attentive anymore. I switched on the tap and lay on the couch with a phone alarm to ring in fifteen minutes time. The cool morning air and the cawing sound of the crows felt peaceful. The alarm rang and while hurrying back, my right foot slipped on the wet bathroom floor. The air-conditioner’s noise inside the bedroom blocked the falling sound from reaching Anand’s ears.
After laying still for a few seconds, I gradually lifted my body with the support of the door frame. My lower back was in severe pain. With limping steps, I climbed back on the couch and closed my eyes.
When I woke up it was six thirty am! I slowly raised my body although the waist resisted the movements due to the shooting pain. I missed the seven am bus to the college. The next bus at seven thirty am, dropped me just in time before Prof. Brijwasi’s class.
We had a surprise test, and I could not fare well. I could barely recall the answers.
During the break, Sonali and I went towards the corridor for fresh air. Some of our classmates gathered around. They were staring at my red bangles, my wedding ring, and my anklets.
‘You look tired today,’ said Mona looking concerned.
‘Oh, am I? …. I slipped on the bathroom floor today’ I said.
‘Oh! Are you badly hurt?’ asked Sonali.
‘No, just my back hurts, otherwise I’m good.’
She came closer and whispered to me, ‘Are you pregnant?’
I looked at her in the eye and slightly shook my head in the negative.
‘You should have got some rest today.’
Anand and I were incredibly careful about this, and we were taking necessary precautions. While I was waiting for the final colour code on the pregnancy testing equipment, Anand consoled me. ‘Its fine. Even if you are, I will take care of everything. You don’t need to worry about it.’
I imagined attending classes in my baby bump and attracting stares from everyone in the classroom and elsewhere. After a few minutes, the equipment gave negative results. I was relieved.
Lying on the bed with an analgesic ointment rubbed back, my muscles gave out a sigh of relief. My eyes were closing gradually, and Anand moved his hands over my arms and then over my forehead and then my hair to put me to sleep. We remained silent.
When he went into a deep slumber, I admired the moon from the netted window. I twisted and turned to explore a comfortable sleeping position, but it could not be discovered.
‘Why don’t you take your pill today? You need to sleep!’ said Anand, awake after a two-hour sleep.
‘I will get dependent on it all over again. Let me tackle it my way.’
The doctor’s prescribed medicine at the bed side table lay unopened in silver foil packed strips. My mind was in search of natural sleep amid thoughts about delaying my pregnancy and failing in my exams. The thoughts about my classmates, my professors sleeping peacefully at this hour made me claustrophobic and restless. My heart was beating faster than usual.
I raised myself slowly and walked into the drawing room balcony for some fresh air. I dialled Sheetal in Canada. It was afternoon there. She did not answer and messaged that she is occupied.
I sat cross legged on the marble floor to meditate. There was no disturbance except for the security guard’s ritual with his stick and the whistle. My eyes remained closed, but the brain remained completely awake. My eyes then concentrated on a rubber ball being thrown towards the ceiling with my right palm and then held back on its return by my left palm. The operation of juggling of the eyes to lose my consciousness failed miserably.
In Prof. Brijwasi’s class, my palms reached for my forehead to pacify the headache and heaviness in the eyes. Seated on the front seat, I attracted her attention.
She stopped her lecture mid-way and stared at me. The students’ eyes were staring at me too.
‘Yes, Ms. Nandini, what’s wrong with you?’
I felt like a criminal being caught red-handed.
With an innocent face, I clarified, ‘Nothing Ma’am. I’m fine, I’m listening to you.’
‘Can you explain the theory I was talking about?’
During her class, my fatigued state had focused on ways to fight insomnia. The brain had been completely inattentive of her lecture.
‘Sorry, Ma’am. I can’t. Could you explain it again?’
Prof. Brijwasi looked sternly into my dark circled eyes.
‘Am I putting you to sleep?’
‘No, Ma’am’ I bowed my head with nervousness and embarrassment.
‘I have been seeing you like this for a week now. I only want attentive students in my class. Understand?’
‘I’m sorry Ma’am.’
‘Next time, if I find you like this, your husband will be summoned by the principal!’
She stormed out of the class shortly after.
The girls sitting behind smiled and giggled. Sonali turned to them with a stern look. The girls’ expressions instantly changed.
‘Are you ok?’ whispered Sonali with her left palm below my shoulder.
I reluctantly smiled and nodded.
‘Let’s study together at my place tonight. It may get past your bedtime, but this is important right?’
‘Absolutely!’ I said excitedly.
about the author
Nagma is a senior executive at a multinational corporation and her short stories have been published in Contemporary Literary Review India, Kitaab, Setu Bilingual, Modern Literature, Litbop, The Fairtales, The Omnibus Registry, Chewers by Masticadores, The Metaworker Literary Magazine and Purple Pencil Project.
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