(short story)

He says whenever he wants to go to sleep, he thinks of Madonna. And believe me, he sleeps sound and peaceful. My work schedule often ensures that I reach our rooms at such hours when only thieves and dogs (and the stray policeman) prowl the streets, and I've seen him as he sleeps. He sleeps like a baby.

I don't understand this guy - Madonna seems to be the only woman that he seems to care for. He has got a lot many posters of her, too damn many of them in fact. One inside his cupboard, one next to his bed, a framed one all the way from France on his study table - I'd once borrowed a book from him, and what do I find among the pages? He is the only character whom I've met who uses Madonna photographs as bookmarks.

We stay at a rented apartment you know, and the land-lady has got a rather shapely daughter who's been giving both of us young men the 'eyes' for quite a while now, but well, all this is wasted on him. The only woman he ever thinks of is Madonna. He worships her, actually.

Believe me, he does.

What attracts him to the woman, I asked him that once. He told me that to him Madonna embodied the true beauty in every woman. I thought of showing him some Paris Hilton snaps that I had downloaded from the internet, but I decided otherwise.

He talks to her posters, can you believe that? He talks to them - his fears, worries and all that stuff. He is a rather sensitive fellow, quiet and pensive most of the time, I haven't yet caught him praying before the posters but I am sure he does that too.

He'd gone to Goa for New Year's. And guess what he got for me from there? Well, he got a fancy looking locket, you know, the ones that snap open and you could keep pictures of your sweet heart in it. But guess whose image should I find in it already? Yup, Madonna's.

I asked him what exactly he thinks of Madonna to get sleep. What he told me is rather simple. He used to be a restless guy once upon a time, and just to settle his thoughts down, his yoga teacher told him to think of something beautiful to focus his thoughts while meditating. And the first image that came to his mind was that of Madonna.

I've been wearing the locket that he gifted me, you know. It still has the Madonna pic that he had put in it when he gifted it to me (like I said, I preferred Paris Hilton but didn’t have the heart to remove it). And once when I felt particularly stressed out, I did try staring at it, but hell, I guess it works only for the fanatics.

But among all the Madonna images that hang in his room, there is one that I like in particular. It hangs just over his bed, and he told me that he particularly placed it there. It is nothing great actually, it is an image that you find in many a bedroom. It shows the holy virgin in deep blue robes looking skywards, her arms gently cradling a sleeping baby Jesus.

Maybe it is the blissful sleep with which baby Jesus sleeps, or the tender light that shines on Madonna's face as she looks skyward, or who knows what else it is about that one, but I kind of like it.

And these days when I can't go to sleep, I stare at that image too.

So that makes it two guys who think of Madonna to go to sleep. And you know what, we sleep soundly.

THE END