I woke up early in the morning. Actually, I never woke up because I had never slept the previous night. I wanted to sleep as the permanent resident of the house for one last time. But i was not able to. I wasn’t insomniac, it had never happened before but was happening that night. There was something within me that kept me vigil. My mind had become a battle field of a war between my sleep and its formidable adversaries- anxiety, anxiousness, fear, happiness and dismay. I felt like nightwatchman ,who sitting on his wooden stool falls asleep but everytime his eyes close, he startles and wakesup on hearing a sound somewhere . A sound which he later realises was just hooting of an owl or rustling of wind or just an illusion. It felt like eternity.
It was morning time. Piercing through the translucent window pane,the diffused sunlight was illuminating only some parts of the room. It was telling me implicitly to get out of bed but was not just strong enough to push me out. It was still raining outside,as it had been since last 3 days. I could hear the sound of rain drops splashing against the window pane and against the tree leaves and against the roof and against everything which came in its way from the heaven to gaea. In the sunlight ,impregnating in the whole room, i could see a photoframe dangling on the wall with a picture of two children smiling. I squinted and recognised one of them to be me and other one my sibling. I rolled my eyes and i saw a heap of books kept one over the other forming a pyramidal shape. The diffused sunlight could only lit the base of the pyramid. Its apex was not visible .It seemed like the apex was somewhere at Zeus’ feet. I tried to read the title of one of the books diligently,it was “the concepts of physics”. A feeling of disgust arose in me, the air in the room became suddenly became too thick to breathe. I quickly rolled my eyes away. Good riddance,i thought. The sight of bookpile had created a tumoil in my conscience and i started feeling very exasperated. I wanted to get out of this room. Suddenly my sight fell on the doorway to freedom. The two years of mental trauma had ended. there was no need to touch those books again. I ran out of the room.
