Few can do without a post-lunch nap — one of the most universal and popular forms of human relaxation. The urge is irresistible, especially after a satisfying lunch.
Lunch generally induces a soporific effect that can’t be easily shaken off, try as one might. At home, one instinctively heads for the bed or favourite couch to succumb, quite pleasurably, to the seduction of sleep for a short while.
When accustomed to a post-lunch nap, skipping it is difficult and usually renders one irritable. In my working days, I had colleagues whose moods would be soured if they missed their midday catnap. And now as a senior citizen, it’s an integral part of my daily routine. Knowing how much I value my nap, my considerate family ensures it’s seldom disrupted. For, one awakes from a siesta refreshed and energised, ready to take on the challenges of the rest of the day.
Of course, none is more unwelcome than the intruder who noisily barges in while one’s napping. Equally annoying is the phone or doorbell that rings persistently at that inopportune time — a vexation a former British boss of mine tackled cleverly.
Quite mysteriously, after lunch he used to go incommunicado when I sometimes needed to contact him. Those were the days of landlines. All I would hear was a recurring beep, beep, indicating that he was speaking to someone. After some time, I used to give up. Then one day, his butler spilled the beans. A 30-minute siesta was a must for him daily. And so the butler would dutifully “dethrone” the telephone receiver from its cradle to ensure the Brit napped undisturbed.
Unsurprisingly, later, I too adopted this ploy when I reached a fairly senior position.
In boarding school in Tiruchi in the 1950s, no student ever dared to raise his voice (much less a ruckus) when he passed the headmaster’s sanctum between the hallowed hour of 1 p.m. and 2 p.m. when the latter hit the sack for his sacrosanct siesta. If anyone forgetfully did, the martinet’s first-floor window would fly open and he would bawl them into undignified flight!
A wit once insightfully observed, “The easiest way to wake a baby is to go to sleep.” Nothing could be truer. A few years ago, every time I tried to take a nap after lunch, as if by telepathy, my grandson would wake up and start howling! And, of course, nothing’s harder to resume than a disrupted nap.
gnettomunnar@rediffmail.com
