Tuesday, 10 May 2011

INSOMNIAC

"Woh jo ishq tha woh junoon tha, ye jo hijr hai, ye naseeb hai.", murmured Mushtaq trying to be in sync with voice of Jagjit Singh coming from an old tape player kept in his room. He stands in the balcony looking into the beautiful looking saffron sky as the dawn knocked on the door of his part of the world.
 The ghazal continued to play in the background but Mushtaq stopped singing. The birds started chirping as saffron started to change to brighter shade of itself. Mushtaq yawned, twisted his neck a little with his hands rising above his head joined together stretched. He has lousy looking eyes which he rubbed almost as if to hurt them with his hand and came back inside the room.
The room was still pretty dark as light could only enter through the small balcony door. The curtains covered the windows. He pressed the button on the tape player to stop the music. Suddenly a beeping sound started to fill the uncomfortable void in the place. He moved the pillow to his side roughly and picked up his mobile phone from the bed. It would have been lying under the pillow. He stopped the alarm on the phone. It was the 'Wake Up Alarm'. He now knew it is 5:30 in the morning. A cool summer morning. He would then go for a walk.
This was a kind of routine for him now, for four years at least since I've known him better. He would come late night after work. Lazily, he would get fresh and ready. I would serve him the dinner and then we would eat together. The best part of the day when we did some thing together. Something which I have to make happen as he would not be really even interested in food even. We would watch some TV, come to our bedroom hug  and cuddle a little bit and some times may be even go on and make love. He seems so like his old self when we make love and then, the real struggle starts.
The struggle to relax. The attempt to sleep. A little battle in itself, when he lies down to sleep, begins. He would lie down, close his eyes and cuddle into my arms. He would try, try and try to get some sleep but in less than half and hour or sometimes even lesser time than that, he is gone. He is gone to the balcony or the study or the TV room where he would just keep watching sports, but wont sleep.
We are married for five years now and how much have things changed. It has not been as smooth as I felt it would be when I met Mushtaq for the first time and then for four years before we got married. It has been a challenge for me too, to adjust with his routine. A bigger challenge is to take to his care. He is so careless about him self and his life. Few things he is not careless about is me, his writing and his love for ghazals.
"Noori, I will always take care of you and will always try not to hurt you. I will always be honest with you and say only truth to you hoping that it does not hurts you. To begin with today, I may love few things more than you and even myself. These things you will come to know gradually. Saying all this I have realized that I just made you aware of how I feel about you and I will like to live my rest of the life with you. Will you like to share a part of your with me?", Mushtaq proposed me in a very very serious manner. He has always been honest. Not just with me but with every one else barring himself as he would always say to me.
His rigorous schedule and living is a consequence of the guilt and grief  he carries in his heart.

"Noori, wake up and please lock the door. I am going for a walk.", he said very politely shrugging me slowly to wake me up as it was his time to go for a walk. I got out of the bed and walked in half sleep behind him. He moved out and I locked the door. I would do this daily and then go back to sleep again.
I walked into the half dark room hurrying to get back into the bed and go back to sleep, I accidentally bumped into the side table making something fall on the floor. I switched on the lights to see have I broken something important. I bent down to see what has fallen and it was a framed photographed of Mushtaq and me together of time just before our marriage.
As I started to clean it up a little with the sleeves of night suit, I just could not stop looking at the smile on Mushtaq's face in the photo. He was so jovial person with so much enthusiasm and love for life. He aspired to become a very good writer and do PhD from some good college abroad. His works were fantastic. I just loved his poetry. He could make a stone smile. "How much has he changed?", I wondered.
He graduated finally from college after his MBA and started to work in a big firm. We got married and what a  first year of marriage did we have. It was the best a newly married bride would hope for. We have been in love for so long and it felt so good to be married to someone who loves you so much.
As time passed, somewhere around one year of his job he started to get frustrated. We would always plan to do something so that he could manage time to write. It was very hard to find that time as our family situation needed so much more of him. He loved his family so much. He still loves it. Gradually, he was stressed out. Working 12 hours a day, he couldn't find time for his love - writing. He suffered from depression and even today he suffers from it. It is his will power and  his love for me and family that has kept him working and alive   though.
As tears start to flow from my eyes, I just can't stop my self from comparing the person whom I married and the person he has become, the person I love most - an INSOMNIAC.   

1 comment:

  1. great srticle!!!good work!!!very touching story!!

    keep it up!!!

    nitish!!

    ReplyDelete