Reading, Rest, and the Elusive Pursuit of Sleep

Sleep has been a long-standing challenge for me. For several years, I survived on barely 3.5 to 5 hours of sleep a day. While I am now averaging a little over five hours—which is a meaningful improvement—I would like to push this to six hours or more in 2026. As expected, this is easier said than done. Old habits, after all, are remarkably persistent. Late nights spent watching podcasts or playing chess have been part of my routine for far too long.

Well-meaning experts around me suggested a familiar remedy: avoid screens after 10 p.m. and replace them with reading. No television, no laptop, no mobile phone—just books.

On paper, this advice suited me perfectly. I have always enjoyed reading, even though I rarely seem to “find the time” for it. I am also, apparently, an unconventional reader. I read four or five books in parallel. Much like music, my reading depends on mood and timing. If I have thirty minutes, I pick up a short story. On some days, it is fiction; on others, military histories or sports biographies and autobiographies. Occasionally, depending on the mood, I turn to Hindi books, which I find easier to read.

Taking this advice seriously, I began reading more in 2026. Today is only the 12th day of the year, and I have already finished three books—one cricketer’s autobiography and two works of fiction—and I am well into my fourth. By any reasonable standard, this feels like a personal victory.

Unfortunately, it is also a problem.

The purpose of reading was not to increase my book count but to help me sleep on time and sleep enough. Instead, I have discovered that books are no less dangerous than screens when they are good. A couple of nights ago, I started reading at 10:30 p.m. and stopped at 5 a.m.—only because my vision became blurry. The night before that, I managed to put the book down at a comparatively respectable 3:30 a.m.

So yes, reading is a good habit. It is just not the solution I was hoping for.

For now, I intend to exercise patience—and, hopefully, discipline. I will continue reading, but with one important constraint: no fiction at night. Good fiction is simply too hard to abandon mid-chapter. Whether this revised strategy succeeds remains to be seen.

The Odd Ritual of Solicited Tributes

In recent years, a curious custom has taken hold: the request for friends, acquaintances, and even near-strangers to create videos, voice notes, or written tributes for milestone celebrations (birthday, kids birthday, anniversary, parents anniversary etc.). The intention is harmless enough—collecting warm sentiments to honour someone’s birthday or anniversary—but the practice carries an awkward side.

Not everyone asked to participate has a meaningful connection with the individual being celebrated. Some may feel indifferent; others may even have a strained history with them. Yet the expectation remains to produce a glowing message filled with affectionate remarks. The result is often a collection of comments that, while polite, lack sincerity. They may sound pleasant, but they are hollow.

This is indeed discussed but in smaller groups and side-conversations, where the prevailing tone is often one of irritation. 

I always wonder: what value is found in hearing praise that was crafted out of obligation? If the words are not genuine, the exercise becomes less a celebration of a relationship and more a performance designed to fill a montage.

Perhaps the more thoughtful approach is to encourage contributions only from those who share real bonds with the honouree. Authentic sentiment, even when modest, far outweighs elaborate statements offered out of social pressure. Meaningful occasions deserve meaningful voices—not rehearsed lines delivered due to an obligation.