I’m not the greatest sleeping partner.

And the hubby can vouch for that. In triplicate. Signed and attested by any notary of your choosing. I guess he probably wishes he’d asked for a trial run before buying the goods so he could return them and get a full refund on day two of purchase.

Anyway, the fact remains I am a deep sleeper. Read, I am the kind of sleeper who is probably a direct descendent thrice removed from Rip Van Winkle. I am the kind of sleeper who has been known to fall asleep hanging on a train strap in a crowded peak hour Mumbai local train, get up right before she needs to get off, fresh and immune to the curses of the unfortunate soul next to her, who supported her slack weight while she snored off her woes. I am the kind of sleeper who couldnt for the life of her remember whether she had put the child back in the cradle after the one zillion midnight feeds, and felt the bed next to her in a cold sweat kind of panic to check whether she had rolled over the fruit of the womb while in the throes of Morpheus.

Therefore. The husband is deserving of a glittering crown with the sash reading “Most tolerant Co-sleeper” slipped on. I dont think he can quite carry off the tears and the delicate patting of face with the tissue though. Though he might just well cry thinking of the years of indignities he has been subjected to. The least of which include being pushed to the very edge of the bed by obstinate sprawling all over the bed kind of deep sleep which brooks no awakening through pushing, shoulder shaking, and other such meek ruses, and is only solved by him physically pushing me to my side of the bed through a heave ho process much the same as employed by them poor slaves in the shifting of them massive stone slabs hauled across the desert to put them Pyramids up.

In the good old days of my adolescence one of the anecdotes that has made its permanent place in the fixture of the “Oh God, dont tell me” stories about self is the day when I returned home from school and went off to sleep, on the divan right next to the main door in the living room. And slept and slept and slept. In fact slept so much that the mother returned home from work and rang the doorbell. And hammered the door. And yelled for me. And neighbours climbed up pipes to try and get to the window to check if I was alive and well inside. I had also in a moment of misplaced concerns for my safety, me being latchkey kid and all, bolted the door from within so it couldnt be opened with the key. Just when the fire brigades were being summoned and the neighbours were fanning my mother, who had collapsed into a faint on the stairway, I awoke and opened the door casually to see what the commotion outside the door was all about. Needless to say, I was forbidden from latching the door ever again, and neighbours given the strict duty of ensuring that I did not open the door to strange people.

Then there was the other mammoth event, which guaranteed me a permanent place in the hall of deep sleepers fame. The day I fell asleep in the afternoon post lunch on a Saturday and awoke the next morning at 11 am. I think back to those days with the kind of awe most people reserve for WWF wrestlers in their prime.

The husband has learnt through bitter experience that if his eyes open before mine he is not to make a moue or even dare sneeze for fear of waking me. Hell hath no fury like a me woken before my shut eye is up. He learnt this the hard way when he decided he would go to the gym at 6 am and decided that I should awake like the dutiful wife he thought I was, and make him a cup of tea. Suffice to say, he took his mangled ears to the doctor to be stitched back onto his scalp and has never since repeated the request.

These are sad days when the eyes open at 5 am, though the man giving the prayer call from the mosque a short distance away might have something to do with it. And then the loudspeakers blaring droneful religious songs that go on and on and on…..and then the nightmares that plague me of waking up and seeing myself having ballooned into a beached whale gets me up and changed and walking shoes on before the alarm goes off.

So anyway, to come back to the horrific picture as presented in the title. I am now informed by the longsuffering husband that I have taken to snoring. While a part of me did the Phtoey to you, and now you know what it feels like jig right back at him, another part of me shrank away from myself in horror. Did this mean I was now officially one of those horrific old ladies snoring away to oblivion with drool and dribble running down their chins?

I didnt sleep a couple of nights in sheer terror and the next night I couldnt keep my eyes open beyond nine pm. So I picked my pillow and my blanket and drifted off into the land of nod. Where, frankly, I couldnt care about how loudly I snored, or how much drool I drenched the pillow with, or whether I presented an altogether inelegant picture sprawled across the bed or whether the room vibrated with the resonance of my sleep apnea.

Do you think separate bedrooms are now in order?

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About Kiran Manral

Author of The Face At The Window, ( 2016), Karmic Kids, All Aboard (2015) , Once Upon A Crush (2014) and The Reluctant Detective (2011).
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13 Responses to I’m not the greatest sleeping partner.

  1. Gayatri says:

    that was way too funny 🙂

    Like

  2. Dottie says:

    lol. I am told I snore too. I just choose to ignore. his problem, not mine 🙂

    Like

  3. Average Jane says:

    How lovely that all of you snore! I do too and wake myself up with it so my sixteen your old brat can’t be lying. But I have been told it is cute and I have convinced myself about it.

    Like

  4. well i have posted elsewhere about what a “deep sleeper” I can be…growing up I had once complained why my mother didnt wake me up as I “missed” an earthquake and she tiredly explained that “if it doesnt take an earthquake to wake me than what can a mere human do”….my husband has been gently hinting that I have taken to snoring lately but Im like of course not, well bred, gentle-women like me dont even mumble in our sleep…by the way I do cry and talk in my sleep which disturbs him more…so he would rather I “switch” to snoring.

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  5. Priyanka says:

    You know, I remember me being like you since like forever. And my husband being the night creature who could live on only 5-6 hours of sleep. But now!!! I don’t know when we exchanged our sleeping habits! I guess the dark circles that I now sport are evidence enough.
    Deep sleep is healthy is what I used to say whenever my mom used to complain about it – dead man’s sleep she used to call it. Enjoy it Kiran, very few people can actually enjoy sleeping!!

    Like

  6. blinkandmiss says:

    This, my friend is what is called women’s liberation! 🙂 Do not ever listen to the husbands when they try to fool you into believing that you snore.

    Btw, breathing exercises work magically to cure snoring. If the husband wants to go for it that is. 😛

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  7. I’ve been told I snore on occasion…
    But nothing compared to what hubby does – he can bring a roof down.
    ya, when hubby tried the breathing exercises, worked like a charm, didn’t keep it up tho…

    Like

  8. Altoid says:

    LOL! This was too good. But the sleeping partner woes, how is that your problem? 😀

    Like

  9. Chanda says:

    Enjoy ebing able to sleep whenever however.. it is the best remedy for a long day and any illness!

    Like

  10. Cee Kay says:

    Oh no. Now you are partners in crime. Just keep two sets of ear plugs and a box of tissues handy(to wipe the drool off, LOL!)

    Like

  11. dipali says:

    I have been told that I snore, but my spouse is a champion.
    Funniest was at a wedding when we were sharing a room with his cousin and his wife. Totally exhausted, dropping with sleep, but not able to because in the space between one snore and the next, the other guy would snore, nightmarish.

    Now that I’m middle aged, I also drool while sleeping, and inevitably drop toothpaste foam on myself when brushing my teeth. Bah.

    Like

  12. Abha says:

    errr… when did the transition from Kumbhakarna to current state happen?? one where hubby cant even make a moue?! and how?!

    M is a much deep sleeper than me, so even if i snore neither of us know!! :p i KNOW HE snores! but tell him that at midnight and it has no effect!!

    plus he can sleep with TV on. and i just cant sleep with noise! but seperate bedrooms are not in order as yet! 🙂

    cheers!

    Like

  13. Aathira says:

    Hey

    New here, and a lovely post to start by on your blog.

    I am not sure whether I do snore or not, maybe I should check on that 😉

    Like

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