Life in the Time of Corona

After the previous rather serious post on Emotions in the Time of Corona, I thought I'd step back and take the lighter aspects of life in these times.

With this whole lock down and social distancing, people's lives have changed. They're suddenly spending all their time at home, not stepping out, not meeting people, not doing things like going to office or going to a mall. And that's a lot to take in.

Except in my case, all those above statements were already true for me before the lock down began. I'm one of those people who realized that my regular lifestyle counts as 'social distancing'. So for me, the lock down hasn't really been a drastic change. Life has....continued rather regularly, with the exception that the things I used to do before are things I'm expected to do now. I'm still home. I'm still not meeting people physically (though I suppose now the excuses for not answering phones are diminishing). Though, I must admit, I do have a sudden urge to go driving - what better time to go through the roads of Bangalore when you're assured that they're going to be free from traffic (though, I did read a news article this morning about there being a traffic jam somewhere - trust Bangalore to have a traffic jam without traffic).

The one change that has happened - which is something most people are experiencing - is that suddenly, there's a lot of house work to be done, and no one to do that but ourselves. So, we've divided up the labour.

I'm on jhaadu duty. I don't want to brag, but I do feel like I've become a bit of a jhaadu pro (or that's how I feel in the moments when my back isn't killing me). There was an initial struggle, wherein I managed to sweep everything to a corner, but could not for the life of me get all the stuff on to a dustpan. Initially, I thought that the problem was with me. But after watching several unsuccessful attempts at the same from my parents, I must say my ego felt slightly better (we luckily found another dustpan lying around somewhere, which was far more efficient, and which managed to massage my ego further). I initially started off with complete commitment, sweeping the house (the few times in your life you lament having a big house) scrupulously every day. After a few days, it became every alternate day. This morning, I was almost tempted to make it every three days, but managed to stick to the program (don't know how long the will power will hold though).

So that's the jhaadu. Next comes the pocha, which is dad's responsibility. If I had to think back to my contributions to this house during the lock downpdown  I think near the top of that list would be the sudden brainwave of buying a standing pocha for the house just before the lock down. Had that not happened, let's just say that we'd be collapsed from exhaustion, albeit on extremely well-muscled up legs. But luckily, we did buy the standing pocha, so dad was able to take on that chore. Unlike me, he decided from the beginning that this was only something that needed to be done every alternate day (although every time that day arrives, his response is "Abhi toh lagaya tha pocha!" But he takes his job seriously, and gets it done diligently, along with the occasional scream of "Why is there so much hair in this house?!" Welcome to a house with women.

Then there's the kitchen duty. The cooking, by default, went to mom (this one wasn't really even worth a discussion). Dad and I pitched in on cutting vegetables and washing dishes. Despite cooking being a daily chore, mom's bigger pain point every day seems to be not so much doing the cooking, but rather, deciding what to cook. My pain point is wondering how many onions we consume (I shouldn't complain though. I use one of those onion cutter things, so the tears aren't as bad as they would have been). Dad's pain point is having to wash the cooker after every single meal (which, mom happily points out, is because of the family's genetic need to eat daal day and night). But I must say - while we can hold off the jhaadu-pocha for every alternate day (or potentially, I think not far in the future, to only the spots that 'seem dirty'), you can't do the same with the dishes. Cooking needs to happen every day. Dishes, it seems, need to be washed every few hours. They just keep on popping up endlessly. Many of our decisions now hinge on the number of dishes something will require.

So, with all that happening, along with working from home, there really hasn't been a lot of time to think about having too much time. Even when I had a few weeks off, there wasn't really a moment of boredom. We caught up on some movies and shows. I finally got to reading. Mom, dad and I spent a few afternoons playing rummy (our points now cover over 4 different pages). Conversations either revolve around "What's the number today?" to "What do you think will happen?" to "How does this house manage to get dirty so quickly?!"

Apart from that, I recently discovered some of the online workouts offered by cultfit. Wanting to tread cautiously, I started with some beginner workouts. They seemed doable. And as was bound to happen, I figured I could go for something a bit more strenuous. After looking for classes that were the shortest in the list, I signed up for a class on 'lower body work out', which clearly stated that it was of a 'moderate' level. Seemed doable. Except I was exhausted within the 'warm up' period, and ready to die after 1 minute of the 15 minute reps we had to do. Probably the main reason I'm updating this blog today is that my 'lower body workout' has resulted in my lower body no longer being functional, so I'm pretty much stuck to my bed. At least, until the next workout.

And that's pretty much how life during the lock down has played out so far.

Emotions in the time of Corona

It's now been over three weeks of the lockdown in India due to the corona virus. I've been meaning to write for a while now, but there's a mish-mash of emotions that I've been struggling to put down.

To be fair, when I think about it, neither my life, nor those emotions are drastically different from life in the pre-covid era. But they've definitely been amplified. I'll talk about the life part in a separate post, but this one is about the emotions.

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Grief
I had come across an article some time ago, which said that the discomfort people are feeling these days, but might be struggling to identify, is grief. And to some extent, that's true. But I think right now, the grief is less from the loss of normalcy, or the loss of connection, or of what might happen to the world at large. It's probably not even as much to do with the suffering of the people from the virus (perhaps because I haven't read too much about that suffering as yet, apart from following the daily rise in numbers). The grief is coming primarily from the suffering of the people in the country as a result of the lockdown: all those who are without money, without food, without a home, unable to feed their families, or suffering from domestic abuse without escape. It's also coming from the animals on the street that are without food, or those left for days in pet shops only to die from starvation.

Like I said earlier, much of this grief is not new. It's something I felt even otherwise, every time any incident reminded me of the poverty, the discrimination, the misery and suffering that humans and animals faced in our daily world. These days, it's just been amplified, because the rest of the noise that usually drowned it down has dissipated.

Gratitude
This is one of those emotions that comes out every once in a while, more often as a result of one of the more negative emotions. The more I read about what's happening outside, and the kinds of struggles people are going through, the more grateful I feel: for home, for family, for the privilege of having all my basic needs and much more taken care of. It's something I used to think about from time to time, but the contrast in the last few weeks has just become sharper, making the gratitude that much more stronger. There's gratitude for dad making it back home before the lockdown; for everyone I know being safe; and for just the life I'm able to continue living despite the world outside coming to a standstill.

Guilt
Of course, with every bit of gratitude for all that I have comes the guilt of having all this when so many others don't. Maybe part of that guilt resides in the knowledge that my position of privilege is not one I've earned (though I don't know whether even that would be enough to get rid of the emotion), but was incidentally born into. It's a feeling that's been a part of me since I was a little kid, every time I saw someone begging on the street. Today, when there are so many people out there struggling from a lack of money, food and shelter, the guilt is resounding.

The thing about the guilt is that it makes you want to do things. To be of some help, to ease someone's suffering, to be that beacon of generosity and selflessness when the world really needed it, if for no other reason than to make yourself feel better. But while the intent is there, the action has been lacking. Sure, there are some donations that were made, but they hardly seem sufficient, like barely making a scratch in the work to be done. A part of me knows that every bit makes a difference, but when I look at all the people out there - doctors, medical support staff, the police, security guards, people working in essential labour, people working to cook and serve food to those who are hungry - there's a part of you that feels like just giving cash online is a copout. Of course, covid presents us with the bizarre situation where remaining at home is one of the best ways of contributing, but I've come to realize that guilt is one of those emotions that doesn't respond well to rationality.

There's also another reason for the guilt. Remember the grief I mentioned? The more I go on social media, or read the news, the more that grief gets compounded. To escape from that, I try to avoid reading more about what's actually happening out there. But ignoring what's happening around me isn't going to stop it from happening, nor will it help the people who are suffering. And that knowledge only adds to the guilt.

Joy
It's not all bad, as the above points might indicate. In between all the negativity, there are also several moments of joy. When I look around or read about the environment: the water, the air, the wildlife, it's amazing to see what a positive impact there's been on the world by removing humans from the equation. Sounds pessimistic, but I think that's been a great impact of the situation. This, coupled with stories of people bring out the best of humanity, definitely manages to spark some joy!

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I'm sure there are many more emotions in the mix, but these are the ones that tend to dominate most of the time: at least, during all those times that I give myself a break from doing things and actually let myself feel.

Of trying to write.... Yet again

I got a WhatsApp message from my cousin today. It had two words: "Blog, woman." Though perhaps even the first word on its own might have done the trick, it did have an effect - it resulted in me now typing out a post (albeit with no idea what I'm going to write).

I've written several posts in the past about how I've struggled to write, and how "this post" is going to mark the era of a fresh writing spree. One click on my history can vouch that life never played out that way.

Though, after 5 years of inertia, I think it's about time that I stop blaming life for it. In the words of a friend who on reading this would nod her head triumphantly, it's all about the effort. It's the effort of actually taking time out to pen my thoughts. The effort of doing it consistently. The effort of actually writing the million ideas that fly post my head in the shower or on a drive. And at some level, it's about not giving a rats backside about the readership or the reaction (I realised I spent more time last year trying to figure out how to make my micro stories readable on Instagram than actually writing them).

So, here's to a new attempt. And the hope that the next post I write doesn't come after a year long dry spell, conveying pretty much the same information all over again.

Fingers crossed.

P.S: To all those who might be offended that your own multiple attempts at getting me to write were left futile: well, I actually realized I don't have a response for that.