Dormant mortal

I wake up in the morning after being shouted for the tenth time. I was born a dormant human, my mother keeps telling me.

11 am is too early for me. I force myself to get up and place my divine feet on the ground. I curse the mosquitoes because they are the reason my dad wants us to use the mosquito net. The one who gets up late will have to fold the net and this is my little sister's order. And she gets up early because she is an early morning reader. And I am a nocturnal creature. I would have just slept for two hours, only to get disturbed by the light she switches on at five in the morning, I see her wide awake, solving those complicated mathematical problems, which I've conveniently forgotten after I've taken up medicine. I cover myself up with the rug and go back to my dreamland, only to get up later and realize its already 11 am. I would have slept back happily, if not for krish, our pug, who licks my face and wakes me up and my mom's usual "this female will never change" comments.

I walk to the hall, slowly and steadily, without even bothering about the mosquito net, only to drop on the sofa. The television's remote control will be lying there, somewhere. If it is in my reach, I switch on the TV. Keep changing channels till I find my usual song channels. If not, I start seeing any movie that’s playing. Kannada, telugu, hindi, english, whatever. I lay there on the sofa, till twelve. My mom's words will be ringing at the background. I'll be too sleepy to listen to it, and answer back. And when I do answer, its "mmmm" or "yes" or "no" or "ok".

Then I start feeling something in my stomach. It takes a while for me to realize that its hunger. I go to washroom to freshen up, only to get scared looking at the scarecrow in the mirror. What the hell! The rough curly frizzy things on my head looks like I've just got an electric shock. I tie those things up, blaming my genes for such horrible hair, and freshen up. I'm almost awake by now. My mother pampers this hostel tortured body with delicious breakfast, and oil massage to my head. She entertains me with interesting family gossips.

When the family news get exhausted, we start speaking about our neighbours and friends. Who got married, who didn’t. Who had boyfriends, who didn’t. We have a debate. She is "for" arranged marriage and am "against" it. We shout at each other. She goes back to the kitchen, angry. And then, I tell her, she needn't have to worry because that’s a problem mothers with beautiful daughters will have to face and she is blessed. She laughs at this and tells me that its not true and then she starts giving me advices about how to reduce my pimples and reduce my waist size. And she starts all over again about how much I resemble my dad and my grand dad and how less I resemble her. She gives me some home remedy for the gall stone which I have nurtured, with cholestrol rich food and which is lying safely inside my gall bladder since about three years. Its something made of banana plant's stem and I hate it. She asks me to follow that aastha tv's hero, ramdev guruji's teachings. I promise her that I'll do it from the next day. And till today am yet to follow it.

I love going back home. This is my morning story. Every time I go back, it’s the same episode, over and over again. Its my idea of a holiday. Reaching heights of dormancy. Am in a completely different "mode" when am at home. I can never be in this mode in mangalore. I call it the "dormant mortal" mode. I automatically get switched on to this mode when I go home. I wish things will never find the need to change.