Skip to main content

Corona

We are all stranded in our homes, our doors are pseudo-barricades.
No, it's not winter. At least not in the Northern Hemisphere.
The sun is beating down on our gardens, roads, shops, parks, schools, malls, but there's no one to capture its glint, no one to warm their minds and hearts with its warmth, no one to perch hats on their heads and film their eyes with cooling glasses.
The people are at home. And the homes are cool, for the most part, but if your A.C. is out of repair, you can't get anyone to repair it into working order.
Because the repair people are also at home.
Are they dodging work? I wouldn't say that. Is it a welcome break? Nope.
But it certainly is a break called for, necessary, vital, absolutely essential.
So we're working at home.
And those who have been given summer breaks, or had them already, the kids, are working too.
Not necessarily on their studies right now, for they deserve the break; they're chipping hard at their self-control, patience, restraint, because they'd have loved to have celebrated with utmost grandeur and relish with their Final Exams coming to an end. They'd have loved to eat out, to have gone to the theaters, to have tripped abroad, to have felt the summer in its true sense.
And now they can't.
It's like a movie is running outdoors and humans are compelled to sit back and relax in their seats and watch the show take its course.
Too much has been forced on us.
But what's the alternative?
Parched human beings crowding hospitals? Parched and deficient of breath, of energy and with hearts brimming with regret?
Regret not to have washed those taken-for-granted hands just one more time, to have treated matters with levity, to have socialized when it was clearly out of bounds. 
No, I wouldn't like that, not a bit more than I'm liking this stay-cation.
At least it's a kind of vacation, right? Quarantined in a hospital or at my stay-cation destination (home) would be far less inviting.
So I'm going to weather this tormenting ordeal, with the best of hopes, with my heart of hearts, and with my family, who's sharing the nitty-gritty of it with me.
We will weather this storm together. And when you come to think of it, it's not as much weathering as waiting. And it's not as much a storm as it is a microscopic, minuscule little virus, which if I could see, I'd avoid.
Corona.  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

(How I Wish) People Were Like Poems

Today, I wish people were more like poems.  A sad truth is dawning on me.  I can't just be. Most things just are. No proof required. No justification. Here I feel like an instance Of a class. Some kind of template  With some methods Instantiated. Many of my methods are public. Others comment on them. If I encapsulate, They pry. If I am abstract, They talk. What's going on? I'm not going to plead any more. I'll just shut all the doors. Make all the methods and variables private. Too many people tampering with the balance of it all. Our lives are not portraits or leaflets to hand out. Media often makes us feel so, but existence is way older, Authentic and organic- than the glitzy hood of social media. Human beings, like plants, need space, nourishment and nurturing To thrive. Are plants dependent on these things? Can they not stand on their own roots? They can, and they do. But you cannot neglect  The environmental variables that make them happen. So don't comment on ...

Predictability Plays Spoilsport

"Comfort's journey from the familiar to the unpredictable..." In the age of AI, if you are an AI Engineer like I am, you would swear by predictability. It's indispensable. We will find patterns in your genetic tree. We'll find them even in your whim of a Gulab Jamun or Barfi. We'll try to connect dots that are distant by miles. Yet, I'm here to tell you that we cannot afford predictability today. Sounds crazy and totally contradictory right? But I can be weird.   I'm here to tell you about randomness. I want you to experience it too. Well, you're smart people, readers. I may not be as smart. You know why we can't enforce patterns.   Someone will read them. Someone will exploit them.  Someone will feed them to an AI (Tool) and figure out what to do with them. You see what I mean? I'm being random. Randomness is not entirely useless.  I want to be equally random. I am stupid, gullible, naive and I'm wandering... You can say that I can be ...

Clandestine

Sometimes we wait too long, To speak our minds. We let lingering truths linger, We let sporadic clocks, chime.. We allow patient seams to fritter away Like a sparrow does with the timber of the tune That she was shrouded by; shrill words tearing  Ears, each word she utters, careful, today. While the first day it was a free reign, until Some unctuous winds carried to her, criticism. Just the same way as copper utensils in a house Of steel, are anyone's delight, until bronzed,  With wear and use, both are the victims Of sundry needs and glances. Just the same way, some things, Are stowed away in careful pockets Because they have borne a lot of perusing When kept in the open.  Like love. Like hurt. Like envy. Like silence. Trust and truth are two things I can list, That are given, that are l'habitude. I tell the truth because it is, it exists, It is what I perceive, it is what I've lived.. And I keep your trust, because I've learnt That it'll help you keep mine, it wil...