INSOMNIA - that’s what afflicts me.Very rarely, my eyes droop heavily, and I instantly enter into the world of dreamland. It’s a consistent battle every night where just as my eyes begin to close, some hormone, otherwise non-existent, suddenly kicks in, and the next moment I am wide awake. Adding to my woes are the tiny terrors of the night - the mosquitoes. If anyone asks me to list nature’s most persistent and annoying creatures - these winged vampires would occupy the top slot.I can take head on my worst and fiercest enemies, but not these little monsters buzzing near my ear the minute the light is switched off. Goodbye, dreams of paradise, hello, insomnia, again! A light sleeper, I sometimes even object to the breathing from the next pillow, a slight creak of the door can jolt me awake, a footstep from the apartment above is enough to awaken me.

 

When I am dogged by these supposedly ’ little ’ and ’ quiet’ issues, imagine what happens when a mosquito dons its musical hat on and decides to play DJ with its relentless bz-z-z-z. My night, is officially over. Of the many battles that I fight each day, sometimes I emerge a winner, and sometimes I lose.These life battles are necessary for they keep me on my toes, ever alert, ready to face any challenges. But the war at night - it’s like I lose even before I enter the arena- like a well-prepared gladiator. Mosquito coil - burning, check. But it burns out quickly, so the next layer of protection - the electric mosquito repellent is switched on.Double-check.My dear friends have advised me to use a mosquito net- but claustrophobia is another one of my fears - which leads me to keep my balcony doors and windows open all the time.This gives all the mosquitoes from the area, an open access to enter my bedroom. However,Idid pay heed to my well-wishers but found that mosquitoes always find that one microscopichole, slipping through with the precision of a skilled surgeon.

 

When they annoyingly buzz around my head, the hand automatically rises - slap, slap, slap. Sometimes they get caught in the 'slapping around,' mosttimes they are more deft than the movement of my hands. Over a period of time, I have perfected that karate move to slap them mid-flight. Yet, the cunning little buzzers have somehow learnt how to breach my defences. Not only have they developed an immunity to the fumes from the repellents,Ithink they have watched Mission Impossible with me umpteen times and learnt how to use stealth gear to combat my actions. Every night, the game begins on awarfooting.JustasLadyMorpheus is kind enough to cast her spell on me, there it is-the high-pitched buzz, which I feel is not a sound; it’sa declarationofwar, fromavery, very tiny creature. Lady Morpheus takes a back seat,the adrenaline takes over and my eyes snap open, and I immediately transform into a paranoid soldier. My sense of hearing becomes acute,Ithink, during this time, it’s sharper than any night creature’s saural power.Itry to track the sound. Left? Right? Above?JUST WHERE THE HECK ( Can’t use any other four-letter word here) ARE YOU? And the hunt begins. My preparation includes everything that I think can ward off the mosquitoes, with the determination of a ninja,Isitup, picktherolledupmagazine,and use it as a soldier would use his sword -to slay his enemies.

 

But my enemies are smarter- sensing movement, they vanish, perhaps mocking me. Hiding some where in the room,theyareplotting their next move, thwarting again and again, every attempt ofmine to laydownanddrift off into dreamland. In this game of hide-and-seek, only one of us is having fun. And that definitely is not me. So when the attempt by the magazine fails,atthenextbuzzzz, my hands swing into motion. Flailing wildly, trying to track trying to track the sound, I create a symphony of slap-slap-slap. Sometimes these have landed on my partner, who, I think is the luckiest man alive. Oblivious to any movement, any sound, he sleeps like a rock. I so envy the likes of him. If my antics affect him, I get a mumble out of him, else he sleeps through all the commotion, happening right next to him. With my slap symphony, I might put even a percussionist to shame. My efforts are not always in vain. Occasionally, Iland a hit--not on the mosquito, of course, but on my own face. Only tohearthemosquito buzzing past my ear again, unharmed, as if saying, “Nice try, loser.” Nothing can be more humiliating! The filmi buff that I am, sometimes when I am trying to dodge these evil creatures, I imagine they have personalities. The one in my room, I think, is a teeny tiny rebel with a vendetta.Was the mosquito that I crushed with my hand last summer, related to him? Is he here to avenge the family honour- is he thinking,“Kamini,mainterakhoon pee jaoonga”.

 

Or is he just a sadist, thriving on my misery. Either way, I am the loser here. “Use the repellent, and copiously dab on the lotion,” my daughter advices. I lament that I’ve dabbed on the expensive night cream, and if I apply the lotion on the exposed parts - namely the face, I lose out on the beautifying effects of the night cream.“Howvain!”shescoffs.

 

All the hype about the mosquito repellents is just that - hype. They claim that with just a spray around the sleep area, or the fumes of the burning coil, will get rid of all the nightly creatures. Liars!I have seen the mosquitoes in my room doing synchronised dances around the repellent like it’s a celebratory bonfire. My ever helpful father-in-law, to help me, bought an electric zapper that made a buzzing sound, supposed to scare the tiny creatures off. Effective? It buzzed louder than the mosquitoes, scaring me more than the sworn flying enemy. All my life I have read about how enemies would lay down their weapons during twilight. Here, the saga begins just after twilight, and by the time the first rays filter through the curtains, the mosquitoes have vanished. I, by that time, am a sleep-deprived wreck. As I tumble out of bed, my hands, that have borne the brunt of the attack look like a connect-the-dots puzzle. My better half is mystified at my rantingsof‘howmosquitoesarethe greatest villainsofourtime’.Hehas no clue, for you all, by now know, he is the luckiest man on this planet.

 

The wise have stated, again and again, that there is a reason for creature’s existence on this planet. Perhaps, mosquitoes were created by the Creator of the Universe, to teach us patience and perseverance. In times of advanced technology where AI can, at the drop of a penny, complete any task that is assigned to it, the mosquitoes ’ existence is a gentle reminder that we’re still powerless against a creature smaller than a breadcrumb. Size doesn’t matter! It’s a humbling feeling that a teeny weeny creature has the clout to disrupt your entire night. Anybody needing an ego boost, after this? Most of my In Jest writing takes place during the night when suddenly an idea forms and I start typing furiously before I lose the train of thoughts. This one also I am typing out from the cosy confines of my bed - and as I write this, another mosquito buzzes past me,almost as if it’s proofreading my work. I’m too tired to swat, too drained to care. I’ve accepted my fate. This is their world;I’m just living init.And I am sure the mosquito is grinning - at the power he holds over me. A final word to all the light sleepers like me - who nightin and night out - battle these tiny menaces, keep every gadget ready, who knows when it might work in your favour - and remember: the buzz may haunt you, but the war is never truly lost.I am hoping that the geneticists, in due courseoftime, are able to modify the genetic structure of these tiny creatures so that instead of blood, they will be able to suck out the fat. That day, I will smile, for then I will have won another losing battle of mine - against obesity!