Disconnect | A Poetry Chapbook

6 | Old Hag

I sleep on my back
And I meet the old hag.
O, old hag!
Where have you been?
So long since I've seen
You.

Remember the time you used to visit
Uncalled for, yet at the door, to meet
Me?
Where are you now?
I know how
To let you in on the mystery.

Time spent together
Since I learnt to tell the weather
Have we grown friends yet? Tell me
If not, then why?
Would you have me, rather, cry?
Can you stay when I open my eyes and let me see?

Your hooded face,
That sweaty trace
On my body when I break free
By holding on to a table
I reject your role in fable
For I never believed that you could kill me.

Hysterically, it's fear
Of death sidling up near
When we've sinned as much in glee.
The guilt of our doings
Burdened on your lean wings
Makes you retire from your nightly spree.

Coerced into mutter
Feeling underwater
Your treating is no ladylike, it's true.
But undead in the dayglow, I miss
O, old hag, the rugged kiss
From you.

~ Ithmam Hami, 18th December, 2022, 12.44 am

Explication

In the last section, I assured that we were going to see a poem completely focused on the reality known as sleep paralysis. ''Old Hag'' is a poem I actually wrote in a momentary absence of that paralytic encounter.

As you have read under the explication of ''Collar'' already, I have been experiencing sleep paralysis ever since I was a child. So, I have been no stranger to what actually happens when one is in that seemingly dangerous state of body and mind. However, before deciding to write ''Old Hag'', I hadn't been having any episode for a while then. Call it stupid nostalgia or self-destructive gibberish, I was prompted to write about an experience not less significant in my life than my favorite lucid dreams.

In fact, the title 'Old Hag' may be regarded as one of the most historic pop culture references to the occurences within sleep paralysis. The folklore-like and somewhat empirically justified concept of the phenomenon is that sometimes during our sleep, regardless of the reason, we feel an unusual vibration and stillness that results in an inertia where we can't move our body parts at all. Then a sheer force, as if a massive cinder block was pressing over us, is felt all over the body. What follows is a fairly shared visual hallucination by witnesses all over the world- that of a dark, ominous, hooded creature- more likely to be a fairy-tale witch-woman, as reported by some, attempting to kill us. Some would even go to the extent of calling the intruder a legend in demonology.

Now, if the generalised concept I'm offering here doesn't concern you where you may think "never happened to me", a simple search of the scientific explanation behind sleep paralysis will convince you that in fact, it did. Sleep paralysis is basically when your body goes to sleep and your internal machineries are halted but your brain stays awake somehow. Since, you're frozen all over, the neuronal activities inside your head fire up and create this very hazy picture collecting the pixels from your subconscious memory in front of your eyes. Because human instincts are programmed to detect danger, our panicking brain goes into a defensive mode and sets up our fears in the most vile way possible. Hence, the old witchy character. And according to the neurologists, every person in their lifetime would go through this common experience at least once in their lifetime. Some may recall them, some don't. So, it's only just like dreams. We all dream every night but we don't always remember them.

Sleep paralysis is most likely to be caused when you're positioned on your back and lay flat on the bed surface. This is how both sleep paralysis and my poem start-

I sleep on my back
And I meet the old hag

Then, I reminisce about the times I had to undergo her witchcraft pretty much all over the poem. It's pretty evident that the old hag, despite all her debauchery, was treated as a protagonist in my writing as I was reaching out to her to the extent of calling her a friend and wanting to expose her for who she was-

Time spent together
Since I learnt to tell the weather
Have we grown friends yet? Tell me
If not, then why?
Would you have me, rather, cry?
Can you stay when I open my eyes and let me see?

My amicability was also reflected in the lines-

I reject your role in fable
For I never believed that you could kill me.

Scientists remark that despite our immediate anticipation of death upon the onset of sleep paralysis, no one would actually die from it unless one was dealing with some sort of extreme phobia or other medical conditions.

The lines that preceded them were about how to snap out of the trance- mainly by holding on to something, anything by forcing your hand-

Your hooded face,
That sweaty trace
On my body when I break free
By holding on to a table

Then, I wanted to relieve the old hag of being this alleged monster trying to destroy us. Because, it's our inner demons we're fighting on a subconscious level anyway. The old hag is our insecurities, and infidelities- all wrapped into one plausible body- indicating the highest degree of something terrible we as humans can conceive of in terms of visually processing it-

Hysterically, it's fear
Of death sidling up near
When we've sinned as much in glee.
The guilt of our doings
Burdened on your lean wings
Makes you retire from your nightly spree.

Maybe, that's why she took a break from me. But for some unknown reason, I had missed her and I was glad she was back to let me write her up-

Coerced into mutter
Feeling underwater
Your treating is no ladylike, it's true.
But undead in the dayglow, I miss
O, old hag, the rugged kiss
From you.

The last verse is particularly my favorite because of my metaphorical lexicon utilized to a much fuller potential here than in other verses.