Thursday, January 15, 2015

Hips don’t lie




Today is 6th day in a row when I haven’t slept at night. I just see the hands of the clock rolling from one number to another the whole night.
 
I have left no stone unturned to help/ facilitate/ assist/ try and finally ‘force’ myself to sleep.

I tried to sleep with my head up. Then down. With my mouth open. Then closed. With blanket over my face. Off my face. Wearing an extra T-shirt. Removing it. Oiling my hair. Skyping. Listening Pankaj Udas. Reading 'Mein Kampf'. Writing senseless poetries. Youtubing lullabies.

Re-watching trailer of ‘The Messenger of God (2015)’ and ‘Deshdrohi’, imitating steps of ‘ispiderman’.
Googling ‘Ghar vapsi’ drive and reading people’s comments over it.

Texting people who don’t reply. Forwarding ‘happy new year’ messages to non-Indians, ‘Happy Lohri’ messages to Punjabis and ‘Happy Makar Sakranti’ to those whose domicile is unknown.

Watching tutorial videos on how to tame squirrels and make a hair bun with stationery at office desk. 

But, I failed. Even my brother’s suggestion to watch the first 20 minutes of ‘Godfather’ didn't help.

One of the reason is certainly the jet lag besides the other factors. And there is one funny thing I found about this (although I call it an extremely intelligent observation). 

That- 
Even if my sincere efforts in adjusting my muscular/ cardio vascular/ nervous system as per HK Time zone result in getting some sleep, I found that I cant force my bowel movements not to follow the Central European Time. 



2 comments:

  1. I stare at the stars outside my window
    I imagine the cool breeze running through my hair
    The waters of the sea reflecting the glittery night
    I wish I was in Europe rather than here

    The sun beaks the sky
    taking my escape
    bringing me back to reality
    I sigh another day begins

    @@@@@

    I am lying here prone
    thinking in my bed all alone.
    I strain for sleep but it allows me not into its fold
    so I lie awake here, wondering, in the cold
    Do I tremble at this day that will arrive,
    do I fear I shall not feel alive?
    Am I afraid that my strength will flag,
    or is this still just jet lag?

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  2. A poem and a song on what else..... bowels :

    Though most of them aren’t much to write about—
    mere squibs and nubs, like half-smoked pale cigars,
    the tint and stink recalling Tuesday’s meal,
    the texture loose and soon dissolved—this one,
    struck off in solitude one afternoon
    (that prairie stretch before the late light fails)
    with no distinct sensation, sweet or pained,
    of special inspiration or release,
    was yet a masterpiece: a flawless coil,
    unbroken, in the bowl, as if a potter
    who worked in this most frail, least grateful clay
    had set himself to shape a topaz vase.
    O spiral perfection, not seashell nor
    stardust, how can I keep you? With this poem.
    ~ John Updike

    I was a little too stuffed
    Had to lose a few pounds
    Pants too tight, seams busting out
    Just had a big burritto with beans and rice
    With salsa on top, and some extra spice
    Lots of extra spice...
    Out there in the bathroom where the air gets heavy
    Sat on a cold seat, thought I was ready...
    Working up a cold sweat and reading the news
    Workin' on a bowel move...
    Trying' to move some backed up, drive-thru food
    Workin' on a bowel move
    And it was takin' time.
    I was up last night trying to make some thunder
    How long would it take, I sat and wondered?
    Started reading a magazine from 2012
    And I'm waiting for a bowel move
    'Cause I'm all bound up by cheese that's turned to glue...
    waiting on a bowel move...
    I'm out of paper too.
    Bowel move...
    Ain't it funny how it takes so much time
    For a bowel move?
    I wanna remember, I wanna remember, I wanna remember...
    I should've brought my camera.
    Yeah, yeah, yeah.....

    ReplyDelete