White washed hotel rooms that make no sound except for the dull hum of the air conditioning.

Last night, I woke up and the room was freezing. I jumped around for a while trying to figure out the AC control and the fan switches. It's a cruel hotel room trick when the switch of the fan is hidden behind the TV. I woke up this morning and realized that there was a swan shaped towel at the foot of the bed that I hadn't noticed before. The head of the swan appeared dislocated.

I lie under the multi coloured blankets for a while, willing myself to get up and face the day. I bury my face deeper into a sea of pillows and ignore the alarm that dutifully makes the bed quake.

There is a hush outside even though it isn't very early, and I look out and see a few children going to school; girls with oiled plaits and checked skirts. They link their arms through each other's and chirp loudly. If I was in a cheesy TV show, I would have waved at them and they would have grinned and cheered and waved back. They'd also be rosy cheeked and this would be Sikkim, but it isn't.

I sit on my bed and collect my thoughts but as of this minute they are all blurred because of sleep and the idea of a trying day.

The alarm goes off for the third time and the towel swan stirs in an uneasy quiver.