To believe or not to believe…

                  Her fingers danced rhythmically on the keyboard, as she typed away furiously, rushing to finish her article. With the family fast asleep, this was the only time she could devote for her passion. The day passed by in a mad rush; getting the kids ready for school, packing lunch for her husband, clearing up after they all left, completing the daily chores. She hardly had a moment to pause. But, nights — now, there was no time like the night — with the world snoring away peacefully, she could think straight, think clear.

               For a moment, she stopped to think. The article was on paranormal activities, and whether people believed in them. A lot of  research had gone into it, and now she had to give it the finishing touches. She took in a deep breath as she massaged her tired shoulders. The question she intended to ask at the end was, if people really believed in the supernatural. Watching horror movies and then allowing the mind to play tricks was a different thing altogether. Actually believing in ghosts, whether they roamed the human world, that was what she was interested in knowing.

            After being at it for two hours nonstop, her eyes felt the strain. And, so did her mind. She stopped typing, and began rubbing her forehead. Her thoughts veering towards the topic at hand — did SHE believe in it all? Childhood memories of her brother frightening her with scary stories brought a smile on her face. College friends swapping their supernatural experiences did make her shudder back then. But, that was then. Now, she had matured; learnt a lot about the world and its ways, about life and death. She believed in the power that made the world go round. She believed in the power that brought about the goodness in people. Most importantly, she believed in good. So, no, she really did not believe in the supernatural.

          She nodded her head as she mentally answered her own questions. At times, she did wonder about the weird noises she heard at night. But, her husband’s theories about it all being the wind, or the pigeons sleeping on the windowsill drove away her fears. No, not fears, really. Doubts, maybe. She began to feel some relief after the break. But, she also did not feel the enthusiasm to get back to work. The pin drop silence, her husband’s rhythmic breathing, distant sounds of  vehicles, her own breathing, it all seemed to transfix her.  It felt so calm.

       Her eyes began to droop and sleep beckoned as a yawn escaped her mouth. Deciding to complete the work the next day, she switched off her laptop and got ready for bed. But, as soon as she lay down, her sleep deserted her. She let out a disappointed sigh, as she began tossing and turning. She tried holding her husband’s hand, tried cuddling up with him, to no avail.  She had always had a tough time falling asleep. She tried reciting her prayers, planning for the next day, and what not. But, sleep seemed to evade her. The article and its various versions kept floating in front of her eyes, driving her sleep further away. Finally, after losing her patience completely,  she decided to count sheep — an idea she found extremely hilarious.

        Nevertheless, she began counting in her mind – one sheep, two sheep, three sheep…

        “Four sheep,” it said, with a giggle.


Published by shilpagupte

Do you know the secret to living a happy life? Eat. Pray. Love. Or, watch what you eat, wish well for all and fill your heart with love! That's precisely what I try to do through my blogs: 'Metanoia', the wellness blogazine, and 'Fictionista', my blog for fiction and non-fiction. Welcome to my virtual homes!

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