Sleeping in

The three of us, tucked in bed, way beyond the wake-up hours, not even fashionably late but arrogantly so. The duvet flowing over us, hiding us from the world and binding us together in our rebellion against the ways of the world. We, the three of us, in a world of our own. We with a dinosaur (I had said alien, but dinosaur prevailed) sleeping in the ante-room on the two-and-a-half seater..so we talked in whispers to each other (it also helped because I had the mother-of-all sore throat) lest we wake up the beast. He was only here to get some sleep in the daytime and he couldn’t think of a better place. We, the three (four?) of us, armed with crayons for when-we-wake-up plans, just in case we did decide to abandon our ship under the duvet and step out onto the dry land. We, the three of us, tugging at each other and each other’s heartstrings, craving for ever more closeness and love that can flow out & in only if my pores were exactly juxtaposed with yours, dermatologically speaking. And then you shouting out, please mere itnaa paas mat chipko naa with an expression and stance (all the while hugging me tight) that completely belied your sentiment. With the whisper glass shattered , the dinosaur was declared unreal and the volume levels shot up and a state of new euphoria set in with the realization of the altered, soaring noise levels. We were shouting. I should have read that as a sign of unrest, of sea sickness, of wanting to get back to the world and its disciplines, no matter how sweet the reverie of doing nothing. Then he started to do something IMPORTANT with a very IMPORTANT look of purpose on his face which looked like a lot of stacking and unstacking of books. To be precise, this very IMPORTANT task comprised of a book on Steve Jobs titled Passion, its book cover, two sets of crayons (aforementioned) and a phone book, very IMPORTANT mix of stuff indeed…while you, the third one, tried with all your zest and ability to mess with this all IMPORTANT task and claim more than one set of crayons (which was the only thing rightfully yours to keep), which then led into a physical battle wherein I tried to tickle you two from all the loose ends of clothings..and we rolled into a heap, sometimes attached, sometimes disparate…but bruised and laughing at the end of it. Me still doing all of the above mentioned in whispers. All was well, until that fateful knock on the door, she walks in armed with a banana in her hand..fruit snack time, and she descended on us like a warring ninja…and from behind her, from the little vent of the open door, the real world came tumbling in and everything merged. The dinosaur leaped out of the window, onto the train tracks at some point, the IMPORTANT work was mixed up like the chinaman in an un-sortable state, the colours spilled out onto the white duvet, taking away the blankness of it and marking it for life. It was over and the day began.

PS: we were aged 4, 2 and 34…not in any particular order.