The Importance of a Sunday Sleep

Disclaimer: Insensitive souls who do not understand the sensitivities attached with sleep, may find this piece a mere rambling -- which of course would be an after-effect of their not realizing the misappropriations emerging from a routine lack of sleep.

Scientific studies have already proven with adequate examples and evidences, the necessity of sleep. Newer studies have spoken about how creativity may be linked with the differing sleep patterns of non-nocturnal beings. People have often been divided mostly into two kinds -- 'morning', or 'night' person. So I would restrain from delving into the facts and instead, try and highlight upon the topicality of my concern -- THE SUNDAY SLEEP.

It is a Monday morning, lull with the external noise cancellation, thanks to my earphones. Luckily, the humidity has not caught up on me, owing to this heritage building in which I sit, mostly by myself, and write. But I am lethargic, unusually so and yawning rather unprofessionally. To a certain extent I also have a nagging bam-bam at the back of my head and I long for the respite that my room would offer me -- dark and cool -- when I return. Is this because I have nothing to do, I reasoned. No, I have a thesis to complete, for Christ's sake. Is this because I am hungry? No. I had a fabulous breakfast of cold rice, home-made curd and jaggery. For a while, after having done with replies and ticking off the lists, I stared at the white space on the monitor. And then it came to me, the importance of a Sunday sleep.

The week, like the egg, has a question without an answer. Who came first? Monday or Sunday? Hen or egg? Most of us have been conditioned to believe it is Monday, today, that a working week begins. Some people work seven days, and it would stand of no value to them, what I will try to explain. They just would not have the time. However, most others, work six days and get the Sunday off. Even privileged ones get a weekend to themselves. We have this misconception that Sunday is 'our' day, 'my' day. It ends up becoming the day circled with customary familial feelings and 'together' meals. The overhead light has been switched on. Some of my lethargy feels having received a kick.

First, let me bring to you the glory of the revered Sunday special lunch -- a delayed, elaborate, heavy and grand one. Whether a dessert follows it or not, a sleep must. Should. What happens is this: Because it is a Sunday, we tend to wake up late and have a 'different' breakfast, followed by the general gossip exchange, and the challenge of taking a bath before lunch, while it is being prepared. Something happens on a Sunday, where, even the bath takes a back seat, but once it comes to the front, it is again, a long one. The week's dirt get their due attention and seep off with a mighty mix of shampoo and soap. We switch on the TV and complain about it, while the simmering of the smell of perhaps, mutton, wafts its way into our senses and we suddenly make an attempt to get everyone else, who has not had a bath already, have one. The lunch is done to prim perfection, bones chewed well and cook complimented -- Lord Brahma's meal has been voraciously consumed by Lord Ganesha -- nothing could possibly be wrong with the world. And then.

It is now that it is of prime importance, to my esteemed opinion, whether curd, cigarette or paan follows or not, a sleep must. Why so? Well, read above. Everything we have done till now, has been a participation of many, as I had introduced, the 'familial'. We cannot help it, even single people, who may not want to go out, are taken out by their over-concerned friends, or even worse, forcibly come over. Sunday has this impenetrable essence of 'no-work, all-play -- together'. Sleep is the only time, we are actually with what Sunday actually signifies -- 'my time'. It is important we shut out the world, pull the blinds, switch on a familiar film, and sleep to its lullaby. A slight snoring would ornament the soul and a leak from the mouth, would bring to us the fascination of doing things we do not remember, which pleased us the most. A good example here would be switching off the mobile phone, or in earlier times, keeping the phone off the hook. No intruding notifications, nothing that is not 'me'. For a conjugal couple and those with children, or with ailing parents, my sympathies remain.

We sleep without an alarm and thus, over-sleep. Caught in the guilt of having over-slept, the horrid proposition of an approaching Monday veils itself, slyly. We are ashamed of our bloated faces, and being late for redundant coffee dates, but are we? Ask yourself. That nap, IS THE BEST. If not for self, give the roads, the settlement, the city a break. Bring down the shutters on yourself, and listen to their joyous shower of levelling with the ground. We prepare for the next day, try and have a proper dinner and once again, it is necessary to sleep quicker than the rest of the weeknights.

When we wake up on Monday, to the alarm, definitely saddened that your sensors are activated and you are in an inevitable trap, walk to the loo, and look into your face while you brush, without effort. You have had not one, but two Sunday sleeps. You were with yourself then. The dreams must have paid you a visit, lest the plans were droopy too, with all the food that we consumed. I am sorry, I am sometimes using 'I' and sometimes, 'You'. I have meant this for the entire humankind. 

In conclusion, I would like to emphasize upon the necessity of being oneself, with oneself, which one hardly gets to do, even on Sundays. So, sleep becomes the ultimate apparatus to remain true to the self and indulge in the luxury of having to do nothing. Contrary to you thinking it would be a heavy feeling, it quite lifts us up. Remember that guilt I mentioned earlier, of having over-slept? Did you? It is the most dynamic guilt ever. Opposed to making one feel heavy, the equation somehow inverses.

Perhaps, the universe conspired. Perhaps, Sunday did. Sleep, and let it sleep. It is essential for the functioning of the following week.       

Why, even Sunday needs a break!