Sedatephobia

She remained wide awake at night. The whole night. It was not the fear of darkness or living alone. No haunting episodes from a horror movie. The lamp at the corner of the room diluting the darkness with its halogen shines. it was the perfect place to sleep. Everything was fine only. But she can’t sleep at all.

“Our house was located beside a link road. The horns of different vehicles vibrated like some old accordions. Amidst all the din and bustle of the urban busy roads, for me, the ringing bell of the rickshaw was one of the first things to hear in the morning. Every morning the locality, still in half-asleep, woke up with a sweet K-r-r-ri-n-ng K-r-r-ri-n-ng sound.  I used to think in my childhood that it was kind of fun for the rickshaw pullers to ring bells like this. When I had grown up I knew already that there was no fun part; it was his profession. His survival way. After many years, the bell sound signaled the end of the nights. It was in my semi-rebellious angry adolescent years. That was my insomniac period, along with the scattered piles of the papers, some unfinished drafts of writing, a hopeless way to get rid of all my hazy thoughts. And those nights were long and heavy, pacing with the ticking of a grandfather clock, sneaking away like a rat under the rusty furniture. Even though the whole house fell asleep, it was not completely dead silent. The wobbly ceiling fan, a yawping beagle, or even someone was snoring, breathing heavily, the hushing trees or the rushing of the night buses”

Her thoughts were jumbling up together. But she dared to utter a word of her own. She didn’t mumble either. Those words, images, sounds were coming from the past, making noise in her mind only.  At that moment, the weirdest feeling was to destroy the serenity of the night. As if with her single utterance, the quiet night could be cracked like a thousand shards of the glass. The absolute silence was piercing her ears, penetrating inside her, crushing her consciousness. She could hear the beating of her heart. Yes, she was alive and conscious of her soundless existence. The soundlessness was transformed into a sharp buzzing sound, like some ceaseless mantras of a devoted Sadhu. Alone in her 25th- floor hotel room, she felt that too much noiselessness was too much.