A Regular Day

4.47 a.m.

I can see the rising sun through the open window. It’s a nice view, with some green, lots of palm trees in the distance, a few rooftops and one strange looking artistic kind of building – all through my partly open glass window. But I hate sunrises, atleast on most days. Sunrises announce my failure, another sleepless night, and now, the room won’t be dark enough or quite enough for me to sleep in the next 15-17 hours. I will just have to be okay, and I know I will be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t hate sharing my room with others at moments like this. But still, I would say living in a PG is fun. Even introverts like me love human company from time to time if they get used to it.

What’s definitely not fun though, is my sister sleeping in the room opposite to mine. We were cautious enough to pick different rooms, but we share the same flat with four other strangers. It was my mother’s idea, backed by my grandma and aunts, that it would help us if we are close together since we are both allegedly ‘alone’ in the big city. It does not. I almost never does help; and when it does (I did once almost fainted when I was sick, panicked and called my sister for back up), you get the bitter thought that the side effects are way over the level of actual benefits soon after the moment is passed. But if you are an unemployed 24 year old, pursuing further studies only to avoid staying with your family because it feels like a pressure cooker on stove – deep down you would know you don’t have much rights to complain.

These are not pretty thoughts to have at daybreak, but I can’t help it. Failing to sleep does that to you. This petty string of thought is very similar to the mild, tipsy headache you carry all day if you don’t sleep enough. You don’t feel any pain or tiredness or strain really; but when your body and mind is at rest you feel it and you keep imagining a worm sucking your life force very slowly and smoothly. It’s just … it makes me feel good when I can believe I love my little sister strongly and it’s hard when she is next to me for long periods. Maybe it would make sense if I could introduce us.

My sister is a strong, easygoing, 23 year old. She has a job, not enough for long run, but good enough to pay for her food and cosmetics and dresses. Her decisions and judgments are quick and frequent, she loves to look pretty and she loves to indulge. She is a big believer in self love. Unfortunately for me, that often includes never admitting her faults (sometimes even to herself), forgetting what doesn’t suit her, considering selfishness as a survival instinct and not as a fault (I will give her that one), but most importantly bullying a weaker for convenience is okay as long as it goes unnoticed and as long as it doesn’t leave a mark on her conscience. I hate to admit that I am the mentioned weaker person and somehow I do the chores and she makes the decisions even though our physical fights stopped when I was 13. What makes me furious is that she never acknowledges that, even between us. So, it never leaves a mark on her conscience.

I am messy, a bit dreamy (I guess), imaginative, compassionate and intuitive (when it comes to feelings). To speak of my career, I have tried enough stuff to realize continuity or persistency is not exactly my forte. Other than that, I want to be a writer. I consider my moral dilemmas to be a sign of my strength and my general lack of interest in people and society just as tolerable as other people’s overindulgence. I am a big believer in self love as well. I take pride in who I am and look back on myself often, because I am very ambitious about becoming my best version some day. I hate it when someone uses messy and dirty as synonyms and it hurts me when someone counts my nature or my preferences as my faults. Other than these, as an unfortunate byproduct of that self love, if someone actually points out a fault in me, a part of me agrees and rushes to rectify and over-think while another part tries to hold on to those faults stubbornly just to prove them wrong. And, I am lazy. So I have a long list of pending rectifications.

Anyway, we fight pretty often. I would have sudden outbursts of emotions and after that we resent each other a lot. Then I resent myself a bit as I am the one who cries at the most inconvenient places in most unfortunate times, sometimes without even enough reasons. So then, we look down on each other for our personalities and we pity each other for the choices we make.

6.05 a.m.

Thoughts are always long at the end of a sleepless night. But, now I get to pretend to wake up early. I don’t know if other insomniacs feel the same way, but I always get a kick out of it. I will brush my teeth and have breakfast first. Then I will be wide awake and active and I will come across the others’ sleepy faces one by one on their way to the bathroom or to the kitchen. It’s weird, but this little process would provide me energy to survive the day. I shouldn’t be up at night this often.

3.25 p.m.

I am late for my class. My guess is I will be exactly 10 minutes late. 5, if I break into short runs on my way, if I hurry in the stairs; Won’t happen today as I haven’t slept. I am often late. Not for any particular reason, but I often get out of the house at 3.25 even though it means 10 minutes late most days.

4.20 p.m.

Something strange happened in metro today. Nothing noteworthy, really; but the lady sitting next to me talked to me abruptly. She would be a lot younger than my mom. She looked like a rich housewife who doesn’t go out that often. She made a simple remark about the station we were stopping at; but as a conversation starter. I gave a short reply and ended the conversation. I didn’t know what to say. The woman looked a bit lonely I think. Or, maybe I imagined it. I sometimes think about talking to someone in the train when they are reading something – it might be one of my favorite books or it might be one I have never seen and I get curious. But I never did that. And nobody has ever started talking to me either in the past one year since I started taking the metro. It doesn’t need this much extension really. But I felt thankful to the lady. Now, I have the luxury of having some useless philosophical thoughts about human nature and their self destructive habit of locking themselves away in my math class. Now this has at least the slightest of something different than my regular repetitive days. I hate those repetitions.

8.50 p.m.

Yeah, she did it again. My sister was watching TV when I asked her to go get the food from downstairs. Few minutes later she called me a control freak and I went downstairs with teary eyes. Usually I would explain why our dinner needs to be picked up from downstairs around 9 and how exactly the simplest conversation turned into a mini fight with a live audience. But my headache is killing me. But, she also told me the headache is my fault and hence completely my problem. I am sick of her unnecessarily toxic tongue. It’s decided. I hate her. And, it’s justified.

12.07 a.m.

I was almost asleep. But now, I am wide awake again – thanks to my sister. My sister has arranged a surprise birthday party for me with our other flatmates. By party I mean my sister with a big butter scotch birthday cake, candles and confetti and my roommate tightly hugging me and everyone congratulating me. My friends made a group call at exactly midnight too. Losing the chance to get sweet sleep right now is frustrating. But it’s not hard to ignore the faint frustration in the back of my head right now. I needed sleep as soon as possible. But the cake definitely makes up for it. I know my sister does her best in days like this. She plans something special for my birthday every year. I know I will have a good day tomorrow. I love my sister.

12.30 a.m.

The cake is gone. My roommate is back to studying and I have returned to bed. My sister is probably busy with her phone. Honestly, I know we care for each other. We will be there for each other if something happens. But can I guarantee we won’t fight tomorrow? That would be a nice birthday treat, but, no. although I think we will be fine. Siblings mostly end up fine I guess. I will probably get a job soon enough and then I will be away from this place and away from her. Then when I meet my sister in holidays and gatherings we will meet with an affectionate smile and we will both be happy to have each other’s company – without the daily scowls, without the petty memories. I like to think that’s the happy ending that siblings find eventually. I bet we will find our happy ending soon enough.