"Uhh Whaaa?"
That's how I generally wake up in the morning, covered in the drool that has been collected overnight, before looking at the clock. Several joints and muscles refuse to boot up, inducing a pain only comparable to being tased (not that I've ever been tased). I've been told the way I sleep can be pulled off for an asana for International Yoga Day. *Sighs* Wait. Did I say morning? You do say "Good Morning" when it's 11am, I guess we can let that go.
Many of you might be confused right now by what you've just read. Let me provide you with some crucial details that might help decipher the intent behind the first paragraph. I am currently "enjoying" some time off at home before life calls for me. Job, you know, or according to that disturbingly annoying Rihanna song ~"Work, work, work, work, work"~. Admit it, the song is now stuck in your head. Mission Accomplished. Now let's get back to the subject, shall we?
Sleep is an activity so sacred and cardinal to my current lifestyle that atleast 10 hours are devoted to it. As with any action considered sacred such as performing a prayer or watching Game of Thrones, the environment has to be set to match the divinity of the activity. Every night, before sleeping, the Air conditioner is switched on, set to a bone chilling 14, the deep freezing mode is set and the razais are pulled out. This empyrean setup not only increases the gravity on the earth by atleast 20 times but also destroys one's will to wake up till the sun is up midway.
Coming to the scenario where I do manage to get out of hyperbolic time chamber. Before I can even perform the after-waking-up routine, le random dadima appears in the wild. My dadima is like any other grandmother in the world. Cute, loving, cooks great food and stuffs my stomach with the same. It might be past noon when I wake up, but she will bother you for breakfast till you eat atleast 6 paranthas smothered with butter. Also, never say "I am not hungry". Never. She will initiate a blackmailing program with the intensity to break the best of FBI agents. After such sessions, I generally eat around 10 paranthas. Why do I even... never mind *Sighs*
Once the deed is done, the limbo period begins. My parents are off to work while my sister must be kicking ass at school. Dadima goes in Hare Krishna Hare Raam mode with Aastha, Sanskaar, Shraddha and HomeShop18 plaguing the television screen till lunch time. My mind wanders the most during this period, thinking about all I want to do during the day, if I want to go somewhere or meet someone, only to be overpowered by the sheer force of laziness embedded in me. Here, the boredom is seeded. I won't say that I am responsible for my own boredom, that would be really meta. A good TV series or a book are my best friends during this time, it helps me pass the time, one thing I seem to have in abundance.
When the clock strikes 2pm, the house begins repopulation. Mom and Dad are back from their offices for lunch. The question which is invariably raised once both of them settle down is "When did you wake up?" A question they know the answer to but know is my Achilles' heel. With years of experience, even I've learned to answer it in a diplomatic manner with "Earlier than yesterday" or "I had breakfast" with good old Dadima attesting this hard-hitting reply. The news channels come to the rescue, with discussions and comments of Modi, Kejriwal, Kohli et al taking over the lopsided bullying. One odd thing about my family is that we tend to keep our best comments for the News Hour with Arnab. As if our witty replies are being heard.
As we cover a wide range of topics and bitching, the Devil arrives. You know, my sister. The little runt might be the cutest thing in the world, but I have been sensing the destructive force in her from the day she was born. As she has grown up to become Kid Buu, the destruction has also evolved, becoming more mental in nature than physical. I know I can deal with broken hard disk, being a Computer Science grad and all, but I can't deal with my private Whatsapp messages being narrated to Mom. Satan understood the same and became the best hacker I've seen. No matter what passwords I put, what fingerprint I provide, she unlocks my phone and starts chanting the verses to my demise with her innocent face while I hover over the flames.
The madness has just begun. Some... bo..dy.. he..lp... me...
