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A sleepless night..

Towsif Osman

IT's almost four in the morning. I couldn't sleep…I went to bed early thinking that after the hard day's work that I went through today, I would sleep like a log. But I couldn't. I kept thinking about when I will be finished with my studies, about how I won't be able to jam with my band day after tomorrow because I couldn't book the practice pad. I literally was going nuts thinking how I could make more money than I do now. I went to bed listening to my favourite tracks of Satriani and thought how I would have a band like he does. But still I couldn't sleep: I was frustrated. I don't know with what, but I was totally frustrated with something that I couldn't really point out. Maybe it's that girl I keep missing… it must be that girl I keep thinking about. I needed a smoke. It was 3.30 am and I'm out of cigarettes…how convenient! Oh well, if I need a smoke, I should get one. I put on my jeans and crept out of my place. I couldn't wake up my mom; I shouldn't wake up my mom. She's had a hard day too.

I strolled down the street, the chilly not-so-much-of-a-winter night felt great. I could see the flickering of the lanterns in the 'tong' shops which stayed open all night. I could also see two small kids rummaging in a pile of waste bags. Their mother was standing in front of a closed shop with one end of a mosquito net in her hand; the rest of the net formed an askew triangle over another kid who was snoring heavily under it. The string must have snapped while they were sleeping. It reminded me of the times when my brother and I used to go nuts when this happened. It happened a lot because I had the habit of rolling off the bed; the net held me like a hammock and it felt great, until one of the strings gave way. All hell would break loose around me, the hell being my brother. I would bring my share of hell a little later when my dad tried to dig me out of the tangled mess on the floor, waking me up in the process. He would fix everything as we went back to sleep again.

I felt bad for those two kids, trying to find bits and pieces of plastic which they could use to fix the string. They almost did not notice me as I passed them by, the way we pretend not to notice them. I felt bad for myself thinking how helpless we sometimes can be at helping them. I went ahead into the underpass as I had to cross the freeway. I could see about a dozen people sleeping on both sides under torn and dirty blankets, some in a pile of hay. Probably the hay keeps them warm because they didn't have anything else. Near the exit I saw a group of 'minti' smoking weed and discussing how the governments have repeatedly "brought down the house." They didn't even notice that I existed. I didn't make any effort for them to do so either.

I reached the small tea stall, got my cigarettes, lit one up and wondered whether I should take the long way or the short way home. And then I wondered some more. I thought about how these people, who we keep passing by everyday, almost unnoticed, remind us in their little ways of how fortunate we are. They remind us that we have a nice warm home to go back to, with our mothers waiting eagerly for us to have dinner with them. The comfortable bed to be slept in with warm woollen blankets for the chilly winter. Our friends' pictures on Facebook to be tagged and commented on. Our favourite music a click away to be listened to.

I could still see those two kids; they hadn't yet found anything that they could use. I could see the mother too, a little in the distance now but she was coming back. Probably she abandoned all hope of finding anything. I got back home and as I was writing this article I thought how fortunate I am to not have to rummage through waste bins. I can sleep like a log now.