Chapter Forty One: Freedom

Graduation day. It would be the first and last of its kind in her life, Praveena waking up early on Saturday morning. She lay on the cozy bed stretching. Her phone rang, and she let out a wide yawn before answering it.

“Hey,” Anil’s voice rang out enthusiastically. Praveena looked at the huge wall clock that hung above the full-size mirror. It was five minutes past seven o’clock.

“Hi,” she yawning again. “It’s only seven!” she complained.

“Get up, you lazy bones!” he laughed. “It’s the official independence day!” he said gleefully.

“So?” Praveena asked mockingly. She sat up cracking her knuckles balancing her phone between her shoulder and ear.

“Please get ready soon,” Anil pleaded. “I’m bored” he added.

She sighed. “Alright,” she glumly got off the inviting bed. “Give me fifteen minutes, I’ll meet you outside.” She yawned.

“Ok,” Anil replied happily and disconnected the call.

Praveena stood in the centre of the room, as she had done countless times before, and suddenly felt an impulse to call out to Niveda. She thought of those instances when she had called out to wake a sleeping Niveda. She looked at the empty bed next to her, and pictured the image embossed in her mind; Niveda’s lifeless body lying face down.

She sighed. The temptation to weep was overwhelming. Instead, she turned towards the bathroom, she had to learn to put those things in the past.

This time, Anil was determined to take Praveena to a restaurant she had never been to. They walked to a small hotel about five minutes away.

It was a small shack with a thatched roof and filled with the appetizing smell of hot chic peas gravy.

“Hmm,” Praveena sniffed the scent like a child sniffing her mother’s special recipe. “It smells good.” She appreciated.

Anil beamed and they ate heartily.

By mid morning, they were back at the college, walking around the large grounds. Praveena hardly said anything and even though Anil tried multiple times to initiate a conversation, he couldn’t. The most she replied to any of his false starters was with a single “Yeah.”

Disheartened after a few minutes, he stopped speaking and began to savour the rustling of the leaves that broke the silence between them.

Praveena’s thoughts had drifted to her father. He had called her in the morning to say he would arrive in Bangalore late in the afternoon, a couple of hours before the convocation ceremony. He had spoken to her normally — just as he used to, before he put his foot down at Praveena’s plan. He had sounded neither apologetic nor annoyed, but Praveena could sense a certain disconnectedness she couldn’t decipher. She hadn’t told Anil about her father’s reaction yet, but planned to tell him that night after the graduation ceremony.

Praveena sat in the second row with her father, Anil, and his mother. It was the first time Praveena had met the old, lean, and bespectacled Anil’s mother. She had worn a printed light blue sari and looked stiff as if she had just retired from the military and hadn’t adopted civilian life yet. She had shook Praveena’s hand curtly with a severe expression on her face. From where she had stood introducing herself to his mother, Praveena saw Anil and her father, a short distance away exchanging a similar interaction.

She smiled to herself as she thought of Anil’s horrified expression. As the principal got on to the stage, Praveena adopted a more solemn expression. She didn’t want him thinking that she had made a laughing matter of this graduation. ‘He wouldn’t be wrong though.’ Praveena shut her inner voice down.

The principal, wearing a yellow robe too large for him, began his address. Every time he lifted his hands in a welcoming gesture, his robe would dangle off his arms making it tough for Praveena to stifle her laughter. She stole a look at Anil who had a laughing battle on his own. She quickly turned back to face the stage.

The principal spoke of leadership and the importance of higher studies. He went a step further to mention of the role of marriage in everyone’s life. He said he was glad to hear a lot of the students had gotten engaged. “Marriage,” he said loftily “teaches you values of life that even college doesn’t.” Praveena’s mind had already drifted. She saw the principal’s face contorted in concentration as he made a brave attempt to deliver his memorized speech without a hitch.

Kamal listened intently, and next to him, Praveena could see Anil with his face resting on his hand. She smiled to herself as she thought back to their boring days in college, when he had slept in class in the same position without anyone noticing. She was surprised that even after such a long time, he managed to pull it off without being detected — not even by his military-grade mother.

The principal spoke for about another twenty minutes. Praveena watched him speak without listening. When all of a sudden, everyone around her applauded, she sleepily realized the principal had succeeded — he had narrated without forgetting his speech.

Her father turned to face her admiringly, “That was a wonderful speech!” Praveena smiled but said nothing. In her three years of college life, she had heard countless speeches like that one. She had been inspired too the first time, but as it continued, she noticed he was more interested in saying something rather than what he said.

A lecturer had grabbed the microphone now. He congratulated the students for making it ‘this far’ in life and wished them all the best for the future. Once that was done, he called the names of the graduating students in alphabetical order. One by one, Praveena saw as her batch mates went over to the principal – who wore a fixed smile – and collected their certifications. She glared in disbelief as they all smiled and posed for cameras flashing from all sides.

Anil went before her and she saw him step up to the principal awkwardly. He grew nervous at gatherings, she knew. She glanced at Anil’s mother when he collected his certification, and was surprised to see her wiping tears away, fumbling frantically with the camera aimed at her son.

When her turn came, Praveena felt a sudden rush of sadness. She had always imagined her graduation with Anil and Niveda standing beside her. She collected her certificate with a sinking heart. ‘Niveda should have been here.’ Her inner voice said in a low voice. For some odd reason, Praveena’s heart felt lighter as she imagined Niveda’s warm hand pressing over hers, comforting her. Everything would come to pass.

Chapter Forty: A Reunion

As the old and familiar college building loomed near, an undeniable sense of nostalgia cam over Praveena. She turned to look at Anil on the driver’s seat. He looked tense, concentrating on parking the car safely. He looked impassive, but Praveena knew that he too had run through their three years of college life in his head.

Once Anil had parked the car under a huge tree that bore his favourite yellow flowers, they got down, Praveena staring at the hauntingly unwelcome girls’ hostel building. They went over to the clerk who stood at the entrance, making note of all the students who would stay in the hostels. The current batch had left for the semester holidays, and the college appeared deprived of rushing sounds of hurried feet. Here and there stood old students in groups with parents and friends alike, chatting and catching up. With a lot of new faces, the whole crowd seemed a blur of unrecognizable colours.

Anil gave both of their names to the clerk. Once the process was done, Anil left for the boys’ hostel while Praveena headed over to the girls’. They had agreed to meet at the entrance in fifteen minutes. Walking towards the hostel Praveena had to cross the open valley facing the building. She thought back to the countless occasions she had sat on the lush grass enjoying the breeze with Anil and Niveda. She shuddered for a moment as the cold breeze ruffled her loosely tied hair.

The room she had shared with Niveda seemed so different to Praveena now. The beds were there, and so was the full-sized mirror facing the beds. But that was all that remained same of Praveena’s room. The walls she and Niveda had left plain were now taken over by posters, posters – Praveena realized painfully – of gods and – she slapped her forehead hard – child celebrities.

She looked around the room in despair. Her room – their room — had been contaminated. She didn’t want to stay here. It would pollute the unforgettable memories she had shared in that same room with Niveda.

She turned to leave. She would ask the warden for a change of room. But just as she turned towards the door, a powerful whiff of scent caught her unawares. She froze in mid-step. She knew that smell only too well. She turned, and on the dressing table was a can of talcum powder – the same brand Niveda had used.

Praveena didn’t know how she had caught the scent. It hadn’t been in the air when she came into the room, that she was sure of. ‘Then how did it suddenly spread?’ Praveena felt a chill in her spine. She had an inescapable feeling that Niveda was there, in the room, with her. Praveena wasn’t scared, but she didn’t believe in ghosts either.

She could however, sense Niveda. She had stayed in the same room for a year and a half after Niveda had committed suicide next to her bed, but it was the first time Praveena had felt like this; the feeling that her’s was not the only breathing. She stood there, unmoving, and not knowing why, but she waited. Praveena half expected Niveda’s form to materialize in front of her. Nothing happened for a while, until, Praveena’s phone rang, shattering the silence in the room.

She answered with fumbling fingers, “Hello?” she meant to be tentative and was surprised to hear it irritable.

“Hey!” Anil shouted from the other end. “Where are you? I’m waiting,” he said annoyed.

Praveena shook herself mentally, “Huh? Yeah, I’m coming.” she made to leave the room. As she shut the door behind her, she still felt the silence reverberating within the room. She signed, and turned towards the college building, wiping tears off her eyes.

“Where were you?” Anil exclaimed as she walked up to him. “What happened?” he added concerned as she reached his side. Praveena shook her head in response and Anil spoke of it no more. Together, they walked towards the parked Mercedes.

“Any plans?” Praveena asked Anil, her hand caressing the handle of the car.

“Yeah,” Anil said looking disconcerted. “Breakfast,” he smiled as she looked at him questioningly. Now that he had mentioned it, Praveena felt so hungry it surprised her how she hadn’t noticed it earlier.

She wondered if she should tell Anil about what had happened in the room, but decided against it. ‘It’s not a good time,’ her inner voice agreed with her. ‘He’d think you had gone mad with hunger.’

Anil had already gotten into the car and gestured her to follow suit. She got in silently, her stomach rumbling. She watched in silence as Anil manoeuvred the car from the parking spot and drove away from the college into the busy thronging town of Bangalore.

“You know,” she spoke after awhile, “for a moment there, I thought you’d suggest eating in the college canteen.” she smiled relieved.

Anil laughed, taking her by surprise. “Actually, they did plan it,” he said laughing harder at Praveena’s look of wide-eyed horror. “But we told them to spare the trouble,” he finished, still smiling.

Praveena shook her head. “So, where are we headed?” she asked impatiently. Neatly laid streets and rich cars did nothing to divert Praveena’s attention away from her growling stomach.

After what seemed like thirty minutes, Anil pulled by by a huge restaurant. Getting down he said, “You haven’t been here, have you? Great food.” nodding his appreciation. Praveena looked at the big board that hung over the restaurant. The Green Leaf. She rubbed her forehead exasperatedly, but said nothing.

The restaurant was packed, and looked just like the one in Chennai, Praveena realized. They took the table in the farthest corner.

Once they had ordered, Anil leaned over to her and asked, “Shall I order a juice? It’ll be good,” he tempted her with a wink. Praveena shook her head, smiling. “In fact Anil, it’s the Chennai Green Leaf that specializes in juices. Here, it’s the local Kannada cuisine.” she said smiling mockingly.

“Oh well,” Anil shrugged his admiration.

Chapter Thirty Nine: A Friend Calls

‘So,’ Praveena said to herself. She went back to the conversation she had had with Ms Marrie the previous morning. She sat in the couch with a book she hadn’t opened at all. ‘Pa doesn’t want me to start a self help group because he’s afraid I’d fail.’ She sighed, nodding to herself.

‘That’s so unlike him,’ her inner voice observed. Praveena agreed. It was unlike her father. He never cared about winning; he only considered participation. She recalled her numerous failed attempts at sports. He had always said, “Just get involved. That’s more satisfactory than winning itself.” Then why did he become contradictory all of a sudden? Praveena couldn’t discern her father.

She stared at the cover of the book in her hand without really seeing it, when her mobile phone rang, cutting through the silence and shaking her off her reverie.

She picked up. Anil. An unenthusiastic smile came across her lips.

“Hey,” she answered dully.

“Hey, Hi!” he exclaimed excitedly. “All set?” Praveena could imagine him bouncing off his feet as he spoke. It had been a long time since she had heard him this enthusiastic.

“Nope,” she heaved a sigh. “I couldn’t convince Pa. He doesn’t like the idea,” she shook her head, forgetting he couldn’t see her.

There was surprised silence from the other side before Anil laughed, “What are you talking about?” he asked incredulously.

Praveena was taken aback by his response. “What are you talking about?” she asked leaning on the couch get get more comfortable.

“The convocation of course!” he said happily, “What were you talking about?” he asked a little doubtful.

Praveena slapped her hand on her forehead before saying, “Nothing, I’ll tell you later.” Rubbing her forehead vigorously, she continued in surprise, “So, the convocation. Have they announced the date yet?” She made a mental note never to hit herself on the forehead again. It was painful punishment.

“Do you ever,” Anil asked exasperatedly, “check your mails?”
Praveena smiled to herself, “never,” she said. “So, when is it?” she asked quickly.

Anil heaved a tired sigh, “It’s this Saturday. You planning to show up?” he added sarcastically.

Praveena slouched her shoulders lazily. “Saturday…” she went through her mind-calendar and realised she had no plans at all. “Ya,” she said nodding, “I might be there.”

“Great!” Anil exclaimed happily. “Try to reach on Friday itself. Let’s catch up,” he said hopefully.

“Sure,” Praveena replied enthusiastically. And all of a sudden, she felt excited to visit her college, as a senior. Four days more, she thought gleefully. This would be good, she decided pushing the thought of a self group to the back of her head.

That night, Praveena told her father about the convocation. He, like Anil, chided her for not being aware of it earlier. He had planned to make an important business visit to Kerala the next day.

Since Praveena wanted to reach Bangalore beforehand, he suggested she leave Thursday evening, and he would meet her in Bangalore on Saturday.

With all her hasty plans made, Praveena prepared herself for the graduation ceremony. At the end of Saturday, she would officially become a psychology graduate. She would no longer be a student. She knew people expected her to take responsibilities and act more womanly. She laughed at the idea in private. She couldn’t imagine herself as a proper woman, getting ready to raise a family. After the convocation, her aunt Kameela and the family members would put more pressure on her and Kamal.

‘It’s no use worrying about what would make you miserable,’ Heeding her inner voice’s advice, she took a deep sign, rolled over, and fell asleep.

As Praveena got off from the train on Friday morning, she saw Anil grinning ear to ear. He wore a blue denim and had folded the sleeves of his black shirt half way through — just the way she liked it.

She grinned back walking towards him.

“I didn’t expect you here,” she said surprised.

Anil shrugged, “Well,” he smiled slightly, “I figured you might like some early morning company,” he added as they walked out of the station.

“Great,” Praveena replied brusquely. “Now,” she said with an air of authority, “Did you find a good hotel for me to stay?” She raised her eyebrows, with a mocking smile.

“Hotel?” Anil exclaimed shaking his head. He had stopped walking and faced Praveena with his hands on his hips. “Honestly!” he said exasperatedly, “Didn’t you check your mail, even after I told you?” he shook his head in disapproval. Praveena noticed his dark eyes glinting in the morning sunlight.

“Well,” Praveena reasoned, “I thought, since you had already told me, I wouldn’t need to check them.” She raised her eyebrows challenging him.

“’Students and their families can stay in the college hostels’,” he quoted the e-mail in a high-pitched voice. Praveena nodded quietly. She knew whatever she says would only provoke Anil to prove her wrong. Smiling to herself, she walked beside him. It had been long since they had spoken so freely. The last year – after Niveda’s death – at college had dried out their friendship.

All around Praveena, people carried huge bags in one hand and pulled their kids along on the other hand. Seeing their tired faces, Praveena smiled in disbelief. People travel for all sorts of reasons, she mused. There are the people who look troubled and travel purposefully to solve their problems. Then there are the other people who travel just for the joy of it. Though what joy they could find in traveling in these back-breaking conditions, Praveena didn’t understand.

She walked passed a woman holding her daughter’s hand and rushing towards the train that had started moving slowly. The little girl looked no more that ten years old. The mother carried a large travelling bag on the other hand. Something told Praveena they were going to a temple to fulfil a sacrifice the mother had promised. She guessed the little girl was about to lose her luscious locks of waist length hair.

Shaking her head at the evident stupidity of these people, Praveena followed Anil to the black Mercedes Benz.

“It’s a friend’s” Anil told her knowingly, as she stared open-mouthed at the shiny beast.

Chapter Thirty Eight: Insights

They were at the Green Leaf restaurant yet again. After a sleepless night of indecision, Praveena had surprised Ms Marrie early in the morning.

“I’m confused Miss,” she had said.

“Let’s meet up,” Ms Marrie had laughed.

Praveena arrived at the Green Leaf restaurant a little early. She mulled over on what she had to say as Ms Marrie arrived.

“It’s becoming kind of a tradition, isn’t it?” Ms Marrie laughed taking a seat.

Praveena nodded smiling slightly. “Am I taking too much of your time, Miss?” Praveena knew she was, but she asked the question anyway, more out of formality than anything else.

“Well yes,” Ms Marrie said seriously, making Praveena cower in shame. “But,” Ms Marrie added, “considering I’m advising a student,” she smiled at Praveena, “it’s alright.”

Praveena smiled in response before saying, “Thank you, Miss. You’re the best.”

“Let’s skip the embarrassing compliments, shall we?” Ms Marrie raised her eyebrows at Praveena. “What’s troubling you now, Praveena?” she asked concernedly.

Praveena appreciated the concern and time Ms Marrie had always given her. Every time she had wanted to clear her mind, Ms Marrie had been there for her listening without judgement.

“A friend called me the other day, and he mentioned he was a volunteer in an alcoholic anonymous society.” She paused to take a swig at her orange juice. The mid morning sunlight streamed into the restaurant through the heavy glass windows, reflecting and brightening the colour of Praveena’s orange juice. Ms Marrie listened, sipping on her grape juice. “After the chat, I thought of starting a self help group in our locality for drug addicts.” Praveena looked up at the still impassive Ms Marrie’s face. “What do you think Miss?”

Ms Marrie sighed frowning slightly. “I think this is not the source of your confusion.” she observed. Praveena smiled sheepishly, but as Ms Marrie said nothing else, she continued. “I told Pa about this, and he disagreed.” she finished sadly and added, “Unexpectedly.”

Ms Marrie nodded understandingly. “So that’s what’s bothering you.” she said seriously. “What did your father say, exactly?”

Praveena didn’t want to go over the details again. Just thinking about it had been painful enough, let alone saying it out to someone else.

“Well,” she hesitated. This wasn’t as easy as she had anticipated. “he was worried that he made a mistake giving me freedom.” She gulped, “and – er – he also said…” She told Ms Marrie of the conversation she had had with her father. She told her teacher everything, including an afterthought. “I guess he is worried I would get involved with those who do drugs.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe he doesn’t trust me.” Praveena was heart broken.

Ms Marrie had just raised her glass of juice to her lips. She placed it on the table and spoke gently, “I don’t think it’s a matter of trust, Praveena.”

“Perhaps,” Praveena replied, now a little doubtful, “but I can take care of myself,” she said earnestly.

“No doubt you can,” Ms Marrie replied confidently.

“Then what’s his problem?” Praveena asked in a slightly raised voice.

Ms Marrie had been drinking her juice. She drained it and smugly placed the glass on the table. “The juice here is good,” she observed smacking her lips.

“Huh?” Praveena stared at Ms Marrie surprised. How could Ms Marrie appreciate the juice when she was worrying about her father?

Smirking at Praveena’s astonished look, Ms Marrie said, “Think of it this way, Praveena. Why do you want to start this self help group in the first place?”

Praveena said nothing, waiting for Ms Marrie to finish her thought.

“Why?” Ms Marrie urged her with raised eyebrows.

“Er – ” Praveena thought. Could this be a question trap? “to help people – ” She stopped with that, but Ms Marrie still looked at her rather quizzically. She tried again, “To help people get over their addiction?” Praveena ended on a higher note, making a question out of a statement.

“Are you telling me or asking me?” Ms Marrie smiled crookedly.

“Er – I’m telling you.” Praveena responded quite uncertain, but giving a curt nod anyway.

Ms Marrie also nodded in approval. “Good.” She appreciated.

“What’s good?” Praveena asked, totally taken unawares.

“You are sure of what you want to do, even if you are not sure of how to do it,” Ms Marrie said, making Praveena put her hands on either side of her head. She continued smiling “You want to help people, but have you considered that these people you want to help, might actually not need it?” She spoke calmly, in a tone that one takes while reasoning with a troublesome first grader.

Praveena looked up at Ms Marrie, “What do you mean?” she asked perplexed.

“Look,” Ms Marrie explained wetting her lips, “Let’s just say, you find this drunkard. He gets drunk everyday and beats his wife wickedly.” Ms Marrie sighed before continuing, “you tell him true happiness lies in living in peace with his family, but all the happiness he knows comes from a bottle of alcohol. From his point of view, happiness is momentary. You may call him irresponsible, but he’s happy.”

Understanding dawned on Praveena’s face. Maybe Ms Marrie had a point, she thought as Ms Marrie continued, “Trying to help that kind of a person into recovery would only make him unhappy.” she shrugged.

Praveena thought about what Ms Marrie had said. She couldn’t disagree, but her inner voice wouldn’t completely agree either, “Not everyone’s like that though,” she said obstinately.

“That’s right,” Ms Marrie replied brusquely. “That’s only a possibility. Your father could be worried you would fail. It wouldn’t be easy for him, as a father.”

“Yeah,” Praveena took a deep sigh. She was still confused.

Chapter Thirty Seven: Diary Days

Dear Diary,

Why am I so annoyed? I can’t believe Pa. What has gotten into him? Wonder why he’s acting so like other people. It worries me, why is he suddenly just another common father? It’s keeping me awake all night, and I am not liking it.

What’s wrong with wanting to help people? Why does Pa suddenly hate people addicted to drugs? I wish I knew. And why is he conforming to pressure? I know for a fact that Aunt Kameela tried her best to convince Pa that I am a freak, but it seems to me like he has given in to those foolhardy thoughts. He’s worried about my marriage all of a sudden. Does he want me out of his hands? It’s so obvious that he thinks following my interest and starting a help group would be a huge barrier for my marriage. But I don’t care about it; why does he then?

I know, I know. He’s a father and he has his responsibilities. But why should he force his duties on me when I don’t even feel like bearing them?

This is insane. Pa cannot be so weak as to give up on his principles just because society doesn’t agree with it.

Why doesn’t he live by his beliefs, strong, and uninfluenced by explicit forces?

Diary, why do I get the feeling that Pa has become different now? He’s not the same person who told me to take my own decisions in life. He’s changed and wants me to follow in his wake. And I don’t want to.

I can’t hurt him by telling him he’s acting foolish. But that’s exactly what he is doing. I want him to believe in his own decisions.

He has begun to doubt that the freedom he gave me was a big mistake. I should show him that it is not so. But if I should do that, I have no choice but to get married. And even if I said ok, he would want me to marry Prem, because Aunt Kameela was the first one to suggest this whole marriage thing. And I will ever hate her for contaminating Pa’s mind. I can’t describe the hatred that ebbs through my veins even as I write this.

Pa is in an internal crisis just like I am. I understand that, but he doesn’t. Worst thing is, he thinks talking about it would hurt me. And I don’t want to hurt him either. It’s such a pointy knife and I don’t know which side I’m pointing at Pa. It scares me.

I so badly wish I had a clear view of things. I want to help Pa clear his conscience but I can’t figure out how. That’s bad. I know, I need sleep.

Talk later.

Dear Diary,

I don’t know how to explain it to Praveena, so I chose you instead. I love her more than anything, and I don’t know how to tell her that without feeling stupid.

Kameela was so annoyed. She chided me for not raising Praveena well, she told me I had given her stupid fancies and that I have encouraged her to question elders. I didn’t know that questioning adults was such a bad thing, I mean, we did it; Geetha and I. We rebelled against our families to get married. We tried explaining, and when they didn’t listen, we questioned their authority. And until recently, I believed Praveena had the right to do the same. I allowed her to do what she wanted in her life. That’s her right, right?

Kameela disagrees. I don’t care much about her, but my mother called the other day. She hadn’t spoken to me since Geetha and I got married. I was shocked when she called. And I didn’t like what she told me.

She told me I had destroyed Praveena’s life, just like I had destroyed Geetha’s. I was shocked. I didn’t destroy Geetha’s life; we were happy together. But she told me of I don’t controll Praveena, she would grow to question me someday. That’s when it stuck me.

I don’t mind her choosing her own path in life, it’s what others will name her. My mother thinks she’s out of control. My sister-in-law thinks she’s out of control. These are people who don’t even know her. What would the society speak of Praveena if she begins a drug addicts help centre? They would blame her, they would despise her. And I can’t see my daughter cowering in shame. What if she asks me why I hadn’t warned her earlier? How will I handle that?

I’m her father, I should have the responsibility to stop her when she’s on the wrong path.

But what pains me most is that I’m denying her the pleasure of doing something good. She is not doing the wrong thing; she only wants to do something that people would interpret wrongly. I am only worried for her future.

Geetha and I have long lived away from family and the prying eyes of society. I am worried that Praveena would go the same path. She is about to defy our family and friends. And if I stand by and watch, I’m thrusting her into the same future Geetha and I faced. And I don’t think she can take it.

But I can’t tell her that. She would argue, just as we did. And she would be right. But I have a feeling she would later regret her decisions; when she wants family she’d have no one. After all, we did it. But Geetha and I had each other and we didn’t regret because were happy together. But Praveena would be alone. If all fails, she would have no one but me. And our family — I hate every one of them, yes — will blame me for ruining a girl’s life, again. I just hope Praveena understands without hating me.
I’ve lost sleep.

Goodnight.