Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Slumber


A molecular story
 I woke up at my mother’s voice; “Why are you not waking up? It’s night!”

That was the way she always did it. She would make me feel guilty and irritated, as if I spent the whole day sleeping. It might just be six or seven in the morning, I thought. It was high time I reacted to such a negative start of a day.

I found some quick expressions to vent out my resentment. “What a fine way to start off a day! Why don’t you stop it for at least once?” I said with a voice that was close to a shout, making clear I did not enjoy her comments.

“What did you say?” She asked and paused for a moment in front of my bedroom door, which was open, contrary to everyday.

“It’s night.” She had a blank expression on her face.

And then I felt a deluge of sense rushing into my mind. “You took a nap at noon. Forgot?” she said. But I noticed, she was not mocking me, she kept her expression blank.  
    
“Good evening viewers, welcome to news at six.” A television news reader greeted his audiences in the next room.   
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