Was it?

It's 11: 30. I am laying on the floor, looking at the line of ants marching 2 feet away from me. They look messy yet organized. stopping every second to hug the ant coming from the other side, passing information about their enemy. I've always been scared of them. Not like I scream and run away when I see them. but they always creep me. still,seeing hundreds of them in a line, minding their own business is better than seeing a single ant, wandering, on the floor, on your clothes, your food, your skin. I flinch at the thought. It’s like they are marching to attack someone, very disciplined, and suddenly one of them looks at you and decides to take you down first. What The Hell. 

I'm too sleepy for this. 

Rubbing my eyes, I change my side. I always sleep early but today I am feeling extra sleepy. Maybe it's the pain killer medicine I took earlier. My eyelids feel burdened as if something is pushing them down. yet I am awake. It happens sometimes. when I start to contemplate my life choices. Like the choice of identifying myself as a writer. I hardly write and when I do, it feels like the hardest thing in the world. I don't think that should happen. I started to call myself a writer way before I started to write and I don’t know why, everyone agreed. They didn't ask me to show my work..to prove I was a writer. They just took my words for it. As if you become whatever you say. Only when I actually started to write I realized that maybe it takes more than just ‘thoughts’...Is that a sheep? I look outside the window trying to see properly while my eyes fight hard to shut.

No, just a cloth. I am too sleepy for this. I open my eyes wide to resist. I always think of giving up writing. Maybe if I learn, practice and try to get better at it I will actually get better at it. But that's not how it works. you have got to have some talent. How do you tell if you have talent? I don’t think everyone has it.  I try to remember all the people without any talent.

I know in the end I will end up choosing the easiest option, as always. I just need to know which one of them is the easiest option. It's not as clear as the choice I made ten years ago. I still remember my mothers trembling voice. after crying for an hour, she bathed me, which I didn't understand. I still don't. I wasn't dirty. not at that time.

"Don't tell anyone. we can't let anyone know. Do you understand?" rubbing me dry with a towel, rather harshly, she was asking me. I just nodded. confused.

"we can't just cut people off from our lives. don't tell anyone. Everyone will think you are a bad girl. say it. say you won't tell anyone." she was now dressing me in a long frock. I hated that frock. 

"say it." she yelled at me.

"I won't tell anyone." I said it. After that, I met him at every function, wedding, family gathering. I talked to him respectfully because he was an elder. pretending to have forgotten everything growing up. Sometimes, I would just mention unnecessarily how I don’t remember much of my childhood. That I feel like chunks of my memories have disappeared. I don’t even know if that happens but I see relief in my mother's eyes when I say that. It was the easiest choice.  

I grab my mobile to look at the time. It's past midnight. 36 degrees outside. it's hot. I look at the ceiling fan. The blades are chasing each other so lazily I can see all of them. This fan sucks. The cold floor does help a little until the next morning when the strained back ruins your whole day. Once the cooler gets repaired I'll sleep on the bed again. I miss it. I rub my eyes again. Did I break my lashes? I try to feel them with my fingers. 

They are still there. Thank God.

I should sleep.

I look at my mother sleeping beside me on the floor. her chest is going up and down. I start counting. 

1.......................................2.................................3........................................4....................................

she breaths too slowly. It's boring.  

She doesn't let me sleep alone. Once I opened the lock and got out of the house, 3 in the morning, sleepwalking. I was 12. She started to double lock the door after that. started to sleep with me. Sometimes she would tie my leg to the bed. I don't always sleepwalk. mostly it happens when I'm sick. I get up in the middle of the night, looking all sober, talking all good, trying to leave the house to find my mother because she is waiting for me. None of us knows why it's stuck in my mind that I need to find my mother. 

I do talk in my sleep every day. Usually, I see lots of insects, on my body, on the walls, on the ceiling. I don't remember it the next morning unless my mother shouts at me for ruining her sleep and doing weird stuff, and what neighbours would think if they hear me shouting.  

I hate to bother her but she still does not agree to let me sleep alone. I sometimes think of going to a counsellor. but that would mean opening a box full of ants that I have locked long ago, pretending to have forgotten about it. 

The easier option is to leave it as it is. to continue to bother my mother in her sleep and feel guilty for doing something that is so out of my hand.

The easiest option would be sleeping alone. 

1................................2...................3.......................4...................................5......................................6

I start counting again. My eyes are sticking together, like two opposite sides of a magnet.

wow. That's a good analogy............is it? Do the opposite sides or the same sides of the magnet attract? I am sure the opposites attract. I force my eyes open. I should write it down. I can write a story about magnets. 

but I know nothing about them. How are they made? Or are they natural? Like gold, silver, iron, magnet.

I am too sleepy for this. I stop resisting. my eyes shut themselves tight, making it hard for me to open them again.

I should just sleep. I let go of the chain of thoughts.

I made the easiest choice.. again….something stuck.

or was it?........