Day and night and a matter of perspectives

A few months back I re-started going to the gym. If you’ve known me for a while you know how much of a gym person I used to be. However it had been over five years since I stepped into one so I was careful not to overdo things that first day.

Even so, the intensity of aches and pains that hit me at night came as a shock. I am not exaggerating when I say I felt I would never be able to go back to the gym. I imagined a million possibilities, none of then happy ones. It couldn’t hurt this much without some permanent damage somewhere, I thought.

I took a pain killer and also a muscle relaxant (which I need to take somedays for spondylosis) and went off to sleep. The next morning I woke, wonder of wonders, not just alive but also in reasonable kicking shape. The aches hadn’t gone away but weren’t debilitating any longer. I was able to make my way to the gym again and again and again through the week. No matter how much in pain I was, the night made it better.

That reminded me of a friend.

One day we were chatting and he said N reminded him of Laila, Katrina Kaif’s character from Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. That was a bit of a mystery because N is too proper to be a bohemian soul.

I wondered why he made that comparison and was also curious about the name.

‘What does Laila mean?’ I asked.
‘Of the night’, he replied.
‘Umm…That’s not really nice,’ I said at the same moment as he said, ‘Lovely, isn’t it?’

‘Of the night’, to me only meant asurs and monsters. Rakshasas are called nishachars for a reason – people who wander at night.

Perhaps it was a result too many scary stories where monsters lurked in the dark. Perhaps it was the unending nights of sitting up in bed when the wheeze hit me when I was younger. Perhaps it was the oft repeated warnings of, ‘Be home before it’s dark’ or because of unpleasant experiences in local trains while getting home from work at night.

Night has never been a friend.

When the children were young and down with viral, I’d pray for their fever to peak in the day when I felt more in control, more able to seek help.

‘That’s such a dark name,’ I said to my friend, ‘I’ve never understood why people name their children Nisha or Rajani. In fact, H and N were almost Aru and Seher (meaning Sun and dawn, basically, end of the night) before those names were rejected by other family members,’ I added.

He looked at me for a moment and then replied, ‘It’s the healer. Night is the healer. Laila is a lovely name.’

And that was true. So true. I was amazed, I of all people hadn’t seen the truth of it. I who don’t feel human without my eight hours of sleep.

N might not be a gypsy spirit but she certainly has a healer inside her. She’s the kindest, gentlest, most empathetic person ever. That’s what he had seen in her while I had simply been thinking of a flowy dress and a spinning poi.

That’s how perspectives work. And that’s why you need friends who think differently, who look at things differently, maybe more deeply sometimes, than you do.

Each night when I turn in now, it’s with a feeling of gratitude and each morning I wake up rejuvenated knowing that without a good night there can be no good morning.