Humour by Rehana Munir: Pillow talk

What does your bedroom say about you? Intimate and revealing, the boudoir is a portal into the personality of its occupants

I probably spend more time in bed than the average non-convalescent. If I’m home and awake—which is not my preferred state—I’m either reading or writing in bed, something any wellness guru will tell you is not good for you. But wellness gurus operate on the knowledge gleaned from averages, and I’m nothing if not an outlier—and this is not a boast. Sample this. I like warm beer, am bored by thrillers, and I’ll only shop with a gun to my head. Bed is a safe space for those who live at an awkward angle from classic wisdom and popular trends. Hide under a blanket and you’re invisible. Or is it invincible?

What you put—or don’t put—in your bedroom can reveal a lot about who you are (Hexcode)

Sleep vs relationship etiquette

Considering my bed addiction, I’m naturally interested in bed linen and duvets, an exception to my no-shopping rule. Blankets are the objects you’re most in physical contact with on a daily basis, and so they need to be so much more personalised than ‘look-at-me’ lampshades or ‘aren’t-I-smart?’ fridge magnets. To find one that suits you perfectly might take years. I’m glad to report I’ve recently found one whose monochrome (but not dull) looks, soft (but not limp) texture, large (but not intimidating) size and comforting (but not twee) blanketness make it a wraparound joy.

All my minimalist leanings are belied by my pillow fixation. How does one get a good night’s sleep—or afternoon’s rest—without the cottony softness of a minimum of three pillows? All this space-hogging can mess with your partner’s sleep, but there are other ways to redeem oneself on the relationship etiquette front; sleep is non-negotiable. We’re constantly told that sleeping beside someone is the gold standard for slumber. But anyone who is in pursuit of nocturnal truths knows that a comfortable bed, several pillows, a good book and a strong balm are all one needs to get through the night. And, if you’re lucky, a slack conscience seals the deal.

The poetics of a discarded bed

I’ve recently gone through the pain of giving up a perfectly lovely old bed simply because it took up too much space in the guest room. A sofa-cum-bed, a fearsome entity I’ve forever been afraid of, has just taken its place. Setting aside all the feelings attached to my teakwood bed was a task I wasn’t quite prepared for. I won’t get into the poetics of a discarded bed—Gulzar Sa’ab surely has done the pressing issue justice in a song somewhere—but suffice it to say that I felt no Marie Kondo-sponsored lightness. In fact, quite the contrary. Mera kucch saamaan carries within it a world of pathos. Sadly, the dimensions of Mumbai’s flats laugh in the face of such sentimentality.

The sofa-cum-bed is far less user-friendly than other furniture in the Necessary Evil category. The transition from sofa to bed is always a pain, a production that involves brisk activity just when one is ready to fall asleep. Then there are the inevitable joints between mattresses—horizontal, if you’re lucky. I only ever manage an unsatisfactory sleep on a piece of furniture that’s so fiercely practical. But at least it’s not a futon, a one-time living-room superstar, which, thankfully, has disappeared from the home scene over the years.

There’s a mirror above my bed!

There are those who take special pains to design their bedrooms according to “energy fields” and other such beliefs that have launched a thousand retail ideas. A mirror in front of a bed spells marital disaster to this breed. I’d agree, but not owing to any supernatural force. The desire to install a large mirror either in front of, or on the ceiling above, one’s bed points to deeper issues than in one’s marriage, I’d wager.

Then there are the portrait enthusiasts whose bedroom walls are busy shrines to all the important events in their life ranging from graduation day to a good hair day. Unless they’re pet people, which means pet shrines. Some stupidly surround themselves with towering piles of old books that make them sneeze. (Ah-choo!) Others find their bliss in Insta-inspired walk-in wardrobes. Dehumidifiers reveal health fiends. Dreamcatchers out the fantasists. Never invite anyone into your bedroom unless you want them to see you without your filters on.

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From HT Brunch, September 10, 2022

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