Enjoy your siesta
Yes.being past seventy, a retired man like me with nothing much to do,how could I forego my small pleasures, particularly with summer setting in and the mid-day sun passing over my head, of course above the building, blowing hot winds now and then reminding me of the sun God? . So, after finishing the lunch by around. 1.30 p.m. and a little rest reclining in my flat-foamed sofa chair, I wait for the indication by my eyes, the gradual winking, to get up, and lie down on my bed, hoping for a comfortable,peaceful, refreshing time, during my nap which could give me the desired dose of energy for passing the remaining 8 hours or so, before saying good night for the day.
By reading the above, you will start envying me. But very often luck plays a very important role in making me enjoy the short nap, usually around one hour.
This is how it happens. Just when I lie down on my bed and adjust the double pillow (to guard against any adverse impact of my ulcer problem), the door bell rings. Oh god, I say walk to the door, open it and there stands a boy, Sir courier, he says. I collect the
envelope, come inside (only the inside door open, you have to take care of your safety, and still looking at the boy through the outer door with the partial, grilled window opening), hunt for my specs, and hunt for the space on the counterfoil attached to the envelope and the delivery sheet where I have to sign, give them back,throw the envelope on the table in the hall to be opened later, and try to slip into my bed again, of course after ensuring that the door is closed.
One has to start again, as if from zero, because, once disturbed you can’t catch the elusive sleep so easily. Slowly, I start closing my eyes, forget where I am,and begin to enjoy the silence. After ten minutes, it is the turn of the telephone. It is unfair not to respond, because it could be anybody. I get up cursing my fate, and pursing my lips, pick up the receiver and a voice (male, of course) starts: Sir, I am talking from Religare Enterprise, you have been shortlisted (my name being long how could he ‘short-list it) for a special insurance offer… I cut him short and tell him that I am not interested at all. The guy doesn’t know so many things about me – one, that I am a retired person and drawing pension only; two, no insurance company would offer a policy for a person with entry age 75 (which is close to the ‘exit’ age), third the Government itself now takes care of my health needs by gradual increase in pension once you cross 80, mainly to cover the increasing medical expenses, which would become 100 per cent extra, once you hit a century in life (though I have my own doubts as to whether any pensioner would reach that magical figure,or had reached already, one doesn’t know) since it is not like hitting centuries at your will, like Sachin does in cricket). Well, the caller at the other end is not supposed to know all these. For him even the DND (do not disturb registration), could mean, Do (only the) Noon Disturbance.
Try, try, try again, I go to bed, lie down, this time belly-on-the-bed, with both palms closing both my eyes and with a small prayer. There comes another press on the door bell, after a few minutes. I open the door and am greeted by two girls. Before I ask kya chaahiye, they ask koyi chhote bachhe hai, hum polio campaign se aaye hai. None, I said and closed the door. I forgot to ask them if they could give a light dose sleeping shot. Of course, simply because no small children staying with us now should not undermine their efforts.
After lying down in the bed,half-awake, half-sleepy for some time, ruing the disturbed siesta, my wife (unmindful of her own disturbed nap) calls me, ‘tea is ready’ she says, time 3.00 p.m. Well I get up, take the tea and start sipping and enjoying too. I wondered whether the so-called siesta I had is the different version of RIP, viz. Rest in pieces! Though I have mentioned only about three interruptions, sometimes it is even more.