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.
*******
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!
*******
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.
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.
*******
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!
*******
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.
I spent a few days drowning at the beginning of this. I pride myself for being one of those logical people who can put feelings aside, and so it took me by shock. The logical part of me, who could somewhat predict a thousand things about to go wrong, only made it worse this time.
ReplyDeleteIt took time. It took disconnection. It took a mixture of feeling every emotion you've mentioned. It took telling myself to breathe.
These are weird times, and we're all dealing differently. I'm glad, you're feeling.
"I'm glad, you're feeling".
DeleteThat's an interesting way of putting it :) I toggle between feeling and wanting to not feel and then feeling guilty about wanting to not feel.