Pink Herons, Blue parakeets

I couldn't sleep last night. Or for that matter the night before. This is strange considering how sleepy I was in the evening. I almost fell asleep and missed my favorite soap. But then, after I had conveniently called early and said goodnight to my parents and him, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, applied lotion to my hands and feet, night cream to my delicate face, turned off the light and hopped in bed--- I was wide awake. I thought I would fall asleep gradually and normally it takes me less than 8 min to do so, but this is different. I just had no sleep near at least a km of myself. I could've got up, read some book, watched some more tv but somehow I was still lying there, wide awake, stubbornly refusing to give up. Then I thought of music. So I got my mobile and 40 secs to the first song I was crying! I doubled up with unspoken grief and squirmed and whimpered. Tears streamed down in gushes. And I was surprised inside. Why was I crying? Why am I so sad without me knowing it! What's wrong and where? I could not stop. I cried like a baby. And then I started to feel cold, with a blanket over me in 18 degree Celsius, I was shivering. Then I understood. I know this. I have been through this before, for months. How could I forget it? How could I pretend everything is OK! But thank God, now I know. I know what I have to do now to survive, I am a pro. So I forced myself to get up, dragged my sorry crying figure, still mopping tears off my face, to the kitchen. I filled the hot water bottle, drank a cup of warm milk and came back to my bed. I crouched to my left side in the foetal position cradling the hot bottle to my heart and slowly softly started carressing and patting my head. The tears subsided slowly, the shivering stopped, the whimper went away and although I was still not sleepy, I was feeling better clarity. I have to accept the reality, I thought, I need to know I am not OK and that it is OK not to be alright all the time. I started to feel pity for myself, which is never good, it can cause immediate relapse of the previous fit, and it did. But this time, as I know I would, as I always do, I cried myself to sleep, dreaming of missed trains, lost lands, barren fields, shocking pink herons and blue parakeets.

I woke up sore and tired. And I stayed in bed till 9, watching the regular sparrows and bulbuls knocking at my window, they eat inscts perhaps but from my side of the glass it appears like a dance or sometimes like they are in the powder room, dressing up. It amazes me. So life is thriving all and about and I finally left my den, got dressed and came to office. Not much work today and so I thought of writing this. If anyone is reading this, don't think I am a coward. I can face myself. Just afraid that I might not be able to get back. I have no reason to. Not anymore.