Its 11:30 on a cold Thursday night. I lay lazily wading through the pages of “Life of Pi”, the book I borrowed from Satish last evening. I dig the Haagen Dazs pineapple-coconut flavor, well aware of it nullifying my efforts to crunch in the mornings. Yet I gourmand the ice cream as I read on, pulling the blanket, cozily sinking into the couch, slowly tilting my head till its comfortable enough doze off. I slur over the voice inside my head coaxing me to “brush your teeth” before bed. I read on savoring and imagining the story through my remnants of Pondicherry. I faintly smile and go over the funny incident in my office cube, my thoughts candidly drifting away from the book. I am suddenly aware of my surroundings, the curry which needs to be in the fridge, the dry plates that have to be dropped into the sink, the very ambitious dosa dough that needs to be battered from wrong soaked proportions of my folly and ignorance – 1 cup rice and 3 cups of urud dal. I tell myself “tomorrow…. May be”. I slothfully crumble deeper into the couch and flip the pages, placing the light and empty ice cream cup on the table. I am no longer reading, but waddling over the lines, dissolving the milky tang tarrying my tongue, letting pangs of sleep crawl over me smoothly, steadily until it expedites as the declarative yawn. I cede to the angelic, leaden and natural hypnosis of slumber… until the next sunshine….