People sleep walk and I am sure I sleep write. I have said this on a number of occasions that for some reason when at night the lights are off my mind wanders in the alleys that lead me to creativity. Ninety percent of my fiction pieces have been written that way. For that reason a drafting pad always stays on my side table because such lyrical themes and thoughts are fleeting and I don’t remember a bit when I wake up the next morning. I attribute my mind’s better functionality to the serenity and calmness that prevails at night.

I have a bitter-sweet relationship with night. I like it since it precedes the day – the day that usually cheers me up unless it is marred with some bad news. I don’t like it since my mind becomes quite active so much so that it pushes me into uneasiness.

So I discovered a note cramped under my pillow. It read:

Sometimes I miss you the way

Oasis dwellers miss the rains

My nights are shrouded in strangeness because I miss people at that time. I can write better, plan better and even the oldest and remotest things rain on my mind until drowsiness steals over me. I don’t remember when and how I wrote the above mentioned note. I do miss certain someone but the astonishing thing is that I don’t remember jotting down these lines. That truly makes me feel that I sleep write. I am sure I do.