Cloudburst of sorts

There has been quite a lot of work in the last few days. Several hours spent in front of the laptop, in varying awkward positions and lighting. The yoga has gone for a toss, the spine protests and eyes are feeling parched. Sleep has gotten interesting, though.

In the early hours of the morning, I finally lie down. That instant, when my head hits the pillow, there’s a very intense series of pin-pricks along my back and neck. It’s wonderfully relaxing. In fact, a little too much. I have no clue how sore my muscles are until I lie down. Then the peace that hits me, hits me so bad that I feel nauseous. It’s like you’ve been carrying a knot in your stomach for a really long time. Then, whatever incident you’ve been stressing over, passes. The relief that washes over you the next moment melts that coagulated tension in your belly – and you have to go to the bathroom and throw up.

Sometimes, it feels like the body is just waiting for your permission to feel exhausted.

With my eyes closed, I feel the stale energy of the day rising from my body. The way the smell of sweat wafts from a cotton shirt. I feel this tiredness getting collected a few inches above my body and slowly rising up. It feels exactly like a day in late May or early June. There is sweltering heat. Every pore on the surface of the earth has been perspiring the whole day. Then, when the sun sets, the heft of earth’s heat makes its slow ascent to a cooler sky.

Then, with my eyes still closed, I feel it. The fatigue spending some time in the bowel of an unspent night. Next, there’s condensation. With my eyes closed, I feel it then – a shower of deep, plush restfulness.

I like sleeping like that – drenched in the rain of sleep.