Sleepless in Seoul
There are certain times when I look at other people with genuine envy. To be honest, it’s not because of their grades or money or success, but something rather simple, something rather trivial. I like to call these people the “Sleep Elites.”
I am not sure about your major, but here at the engineering
part of the world, everyone has the ability to sleep anywhere. On the table,
under the table, on the chair, suspended on two chairs, suspended on two moving
chairs, on the stairs, on the way to the toilet, you name it. But I am not
really interested with the ability to sleep anywhere, I am more amused at the
pace at which some people, or rather the elites, seem to sleep.
`
He did so again the next day, and again the day after. We
soon realized it was his habit. It’s a potent mixture given the fact that he is
also an engineer.
The return of the
Meow:
Its days like this that I wish I had been born into the
elite squad of pacey sleepers. With the constant Meow and Murrrr of the overly friendly
cat who just loves to hang around the window outside my poster bedroom, it’s
hard to imagine the godmother of sleep aiding me up the stairs to dreamland. I
would have supplemented the sleep in the class instead, but with assignments
mounting the summits of Everest and with exams own meowing increasingly deafening,
there is little room for midday nap.
It’s not that I haven’t tried to avert the cat from voicing
her meows. I have done everything from throwing stuff I don’t need in my room
to playing drums on my poor windowpane to even barking with varied degrees of
success. When I voiced my concern to NJ and told her that making dog noises didn’t
scare the cat away, she said that even cats knew that dogs in Seoul don’t bark.
If there’s barking, it’s definitely human.
Sati Sabitri on the other hand, recommended that I use soju.
What she was actually trying to say was that soju could help me join the elite
drunk sleeping squad but my mind was already devising clever ways to get the
cat drunk instead like saying “Here Kitikitkiti, who wants soju? Who wants soju
huh?” or simply smashing the green bottle and showing some white-belt karate skills
(I wouldn’t opt for Judo, nope. Even the cat would have got a little confused
with the act) to the cat to shoo it away. My bad. I am bit visual, you see.
Unlike the last time though, I simply went on to youtube,
put on a song that let me embrace godmother of dreamland with open arms.
“Let it be” heard the meow. “Let it meow.”
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