She gazes at the pilfered sky set on the ceiling of her room, an uninspiring imitation to the original artist’s craft “with as little as possible” imagination into play. A bit weary but very much awake she tries to makes herself comfortable with a little shift to left while moving her right hand underneath her head. The mattress was pushed and bruised by her constant torment, she even crawled into a ball and pinched herself close but nothing worked. Was it the anxiety taking over her mind or was it the dilemma of her heart? Probably she already has answer but for life of her she was totally blank then.
With the little sigh and “humph” for added effect she just settled herself back punishing her pillow with her fist a little more. Her mind wandered in all directions never staying for anything more or anything less. It was as if she was in a flea market standing their haggard by chaos around knowing not what she was doing there. The street vendors were shouting the most aggravating sounds as an Auntie was imparting her negotiation skills with the girl of gen-next. To be frank the girl is looking baffled with Auntie’s depth of knowledge. The whole scenario revealed the debacle of her mind and how crazed her sleeping pattern was.
It had been more than a fortnight since she had a good night sleep. She always ended up in the same fatal position of drowsiness gazing at the artless ceiling wondering about trivial matters but never giving in to sleep. The night blooms in her peripheral vision lassitude she felt not in her body but her mind. Though she has tried everything the darkness carries more appeal than morning, to her state of mind seems to be under wicked spell. Awakened though tired she is in night the morning routine feels like an obligation every day. She follows same set of rules each day of waking up, eating, working and eventually sleeping. Redundant her days have become so in night her imagination gets active as she feels in control then and she plays out different scenarios some from memories and some just wishful dreams. In the end she felt like ticking Time bomb which will explode soon leading to massacre of emotions in her days of fiasco.
An Indian Princess 