When the Supreme Court considered the right to sleep as fundamental guaranteed by the Constitution recently, I was the happiest man.
People doze off aboard moving vehicles, reclining on a sofa, sitting in front of the television or cinema screen, and during meetings and conferences; whereas, I thank God in the morning, if I get a sound, eight-hour rest. With advancing age, the sleep duration is also getting shorter.
Everyday when I am about to go to bed, noises disturb me. Some day, it's a marriage procession, and the other night, it's either the DJ playing or somebody holding jagrata or kirtan. If a Supreme Court order failed to shut loudspeakers after 10pm, how will another help?
I live near a marriage palace on a state highway, caught between the noises of celebration and traffic. How do I haul up the tiny mosquitoes that buzz around my ears, or stop my neighbour from banging his gate open when he returns from work at night?
In my college days, I had roommates who snored. I tried plugging my ears or wrapping the pillow around my head but it didn't help. Then, I got a life partner who wheezed. I don't know how other couples in a similar situation cope but I am yet to find a lasting solution.
I favour sleep as a fundamental right. It is a requirement for a healthy and productive life.
"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise," went the saying. The new maxim is "late to bed and late to rise". It might make men wealthy but not healthy for sure.
{{/usCountry}}"Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise," went the saying. The new maxim is "late to bed and late to rise". It might make men wealthy but not healthy for sure.
{{/usCountry}}The media now can't ridicule politicians who take a nap during important meetings, bureaucrats who enjoy the afternoon siesta in office, or policemen who catch a wink or two on guard duty. It is now their fundamental right.