All it Takes

It's hours past into the midnight. I'm wide awake. It's a wretched cycle, where days and nights slowly erode my existence as a sentient being.

I turn around a couple of times on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. Trying to fall asleep.

I heave a sigh and give up. I get up and pull a thin cardigan over myself before walking towards the window to slide it open.

The air conditioner is wafting chilly air into the room, wrapping me in a cloak of goosebumps. As the window opens, hot air with suffocating humidity rush in, suddenly. The conspicuous disparity between the temperatures inside and outside the room feels oddly comforting. My back is embalmed in coolness, but my face feels extremely warm. The combination makes me feel neither too hot, nor too cold.

I look at the view outside. The night sky is always an enchanting shade of light red in this land, where the rays of the sun seem to never set over the horizon. A few stars dare to outshine the amber glow of the sky with brilliant diamond like dazzle. The endless streak of streetlights light up the obsidian roads turning them a golden brown. The cars smattering the roads move silently but quickly as people rush home from work or hurry to the office to commence their night shift. The tall buildings outside are mostly residentially complex, every room in every floor are occupied.

Deep into the night, most are asleep in their rooms, trying to get as much repose before the dawn breaks and life gets busy again. Quite a few rooms are brightly lit, though, exuding the trace of lush midnight life.

I break my gaze of the world outside to turn gently and stare at the person sleeping on the bed. My husband is fast asleep unbeknownst to my insomniac episode. I turn my head back to the street view.

In a few hours, he has to get up to drive for hours and wheedle through heavy traffic to reach his place of work. After another day of hectic activities, he has to make a similar, taxing trip back from the office. Back at home, we talk, we laugh, we have food together. But, everything is restricted to a few hours, everyday, because each tomorrow will be another busy day.

You ask how I spend my days? I write. I email my work assignments. I read. I sleep. I cook. I clean. I have all the time in the world but no time at all for myself.

I know what's happening to me, though. This resentment I feel bubbling within me is the inexorable bout of depression that takes over anyone cut off from the world.

However, I never imagined I would experience it. I have never been a social person. I prefer solitude. Chatting and any kind of social interactions make me exhausted. So, I deliberately exclude myself from any public circles.

However, in this room, that I have been spending the better part of the past year, I seem to feel lonely for the first time ever. Alone in a city surrounded by millions.

Sometimes, I wish my husband would try to see through my distress without my articulating them. I know. I shouldn't expect someone to sense someone else's internal struggle. It's hypocritical and illogical to feel that way. However, the kind of claustrophobic suppression I've been feeling lately is making me irrational. It's not like we don't go out. We used to go out all the time- shopping, movies, parks, exhibitions or for casual strolls. But, when the world went into lockdown since the pandemic, my life also seem to have come to a sudden stop. Rather, my world seems to have shrunken into an infernal void.

A few lights have turned off in the buildings already. The people inside must have completed their routine and must be trying to slip into slumber.

But, another light turns on quickly in the building right opposite mine, in a room in the storey above my direct line of sight. As far as my eyes can see, many, many rooms are lit up. The building across the road from where I stand is quite a distance from my place of residence. I don't know who turned the light on...who lives there...what kind of life they lead. But, I feel suddenly experience a peculiar sense of comraderie. A sense of kinship with the soul awake right now, just like me.

Is the person like me? I wonder if it is a young mother who has woken up to coddle and coax her stubborn baby back to sleep? Or is it the sign of an office-goer's return home?

Or, is the person like me. A troubled soul wallowing in the unknown abyss of isolation? I imagine it is.

The world around has changed. The oppression of social alienation and it's crippling effect began impercitibly, till it has reached what it is now. Till it has reduced sanity to crumbling, frustrated mess. What remains within me is anger. I feel angry. I feel sad. The more I try to repress, the more I feel myself slipping further into depression.

"Not sleeping?" A gentle, velvety voice whispers into my ear, as my husband wrapped his hands around my shoulder. He turns me around and looks at me, a brow raised quizzically, as he continues. "I couldn't find you in bed. Why are you still up?" He asks softly.

His eyes trace my face. I don't know what he finds, but, he quickly wraps me in his arms. In his warm embrace, I feel my frozen heart crack and a sweet warmth creep in. It feels so comfortable.

He doesn't ask me the reason, but gently, dabs at the corners of my eyes. A drop of tear spills followed by another, surprising me. I have been crying? Or did I just tear up? I don't know. Neither do I want to know. I just want to absolve myself in the salve of his warm embrace.

He closes the window. Pulls the curtain shut tight and guides me back into the bed. He pulls the blanket over us both and pulls me back into his embrace.

"Sleep. I'm here. I will always be here." He assures me with a promise and seals it with a butterfly kiss against the side of my forehead.

Suddenly, I feel tired and drained of all energy. My limbs feel weak.

Too tired to stay awake.

Something tugs at my heart, and it winces with a sweet feeling.

Comfort.

The warmth of comfort, familiarity and affection spreads through my veins as I succumb myself to sleep.

As I lose myself to sleep, I vaguely realise. For any lonely soul, a gentle gesture of love from someone can evoke the will to fight the plundering darkness of depression.

All it takes is a soft hug.