Specks of dust

 

Where do people go,

after they go forever?

To the heavens above 

to meet the ones gone before?

Or do they turn into dust,

a part of the universe,

to stay only in memories,

in dreams and stories,

until those who remember

also come to pass?

It seems so much in vain,

to live and just disappear,

like the countless before 

and all those here.

Yet that is the only story,

told over and over again.

No matter what we do;

No matter what we say.

We are just specks of dust,

granted a glorious time,

to live and love a little while,

and then become a memory,

a dream, a story.

And we go back to the earth,

a part of the universe.

To the ones who left, the ones in my dreams and memories, to your unforgettable stories;
I wish you are still here, a part of this universe.

Week 29

 I think I skipped a couple of weeks as the weekly blog update moved from the end of the week, to the start of next week, to the end of the next week.

No, I counted again and somehow the numbering is correct. A small detail in a world where infection numbers have gone beyond counting. The official number of people who have died because of the virus has crossed a million. The unofficial numbers, the number of those who are sick, the number of those who have lost loved ones, the ones who have lost jobs or homes or just everything are all numbers beyond counting.

Why? Because this is the way nature works. This has happened a hundred years before too. Evidently all our inventions and technologies and communication tools were not enough.

We may find a way out in a few months (or years). Or the weeks would continue to grow more and more difficult for more and more people. Or maybe, like it did a hundred years ago, the virus may grow weaker and nature may give us another chance. Or maybe, the way the world is moving, we would end up self-annihilating and there would be no on left for the virus to infect.

I keep trying to think optimistically and this is what I come up with!

Let’s settle for realism instead.

So taking into consideration all the predictive modelling, I have been trying my best to let go off the old normal and make my peace with the new one.

Decided to outsource chapatis as the first step of acceptance. Have worked out a contactless delivery and payment model. The next on the list-a dish washer? No, my survey says that’s still too much work. An Instant Pot? No, you still need to do all the planning and cutting and chopping and prepping for 21 meals in a week. An extra pair of hands? A magic wand? 

We need something more than realism here!

Week 28

The official count is 55L infections. We had been so terrified when we were about to touch 500! The country was in lockdown and all those who could, stayed at home.

We took on as a challenge. Asked the maids to stay away. We told ourselves we could do this for our safety, for our family, for the nation. We cooked like never before and competed on social media to prove it. Those who couldn't, posted about the bottles they painted, the flowers they grew, the books they read and every Netflix series they binged on. That flood of posts has dwindled to a trickle now. Everyone is tired now.

Nobody thought this would last so long. Three weeks was fine as a challenge and then maybe a couple more. But six months on and now we are resigned to months or maybe a couple of years. Most people have called back their maids while many are making do with ready-to-eat stuff or dal-chawal. How long can you keep your MasterChef cape on? Especially when you have to focus on keeping the mask handy, and the face shield and the sanitizer too.

I am tired too. Very tired. Of waiting for some good news (stopped myself from using the word positive that's the scariest word now). Tired of food-talk, cooking, cleaning and well- of not knowing.

I am anxious too. About the whole uncertainty of when this will be over. What happens if we need to travel for work again? What's going to happen to the school term? To college admissions? When would be able to travel safely again? To meet friends and family with the scare of exchanging viruses? To go out for a movie or a meal without feeling apprehensive? To get the house help back-safely?

Of course, I am grateful too. Of the fact that the family could get together before the travel restrictions. That we are together for so long after so many years. That we are learning so much together. And that we have been able to stay safe.

This is after 6 months of staying at home. Wonder what would I be writing after another 6 months?

Week 27

I didn't write the weekly update on the weekend as I was coping with physical and mental exhaustion. Stress playing havoc with my cycles or perhaps it was the other way round.

I had to speak to a doctor.

Do you have extreme mood swings, get irritated over small things? The doctor asked.

Was she mad?

I have been cooking 3 meals a day for 4 people, every day, for the last 6 months. That with an ever increasing workload at office, blurring office and home timings, no cook, no househelp and then there are grumbles about food!

Irritated?

Maybe it was diplomacy or just empathy. She didn't probe any more about my moods.

I checked with the family too.

Irritation? Did they too think I was heading towards early menopause?

A long silence and meaningful looks later, the younger one cleared her throat. Not at all, Mom. You were always like this.

Nothing to do with the lockdown!

Into that heaven of normalcy

I wrote this in response to a 100 word Parody challenge on Momspresso, but it's actually a heartfelt prayer.

Where the mind is without fear,

 of a virus lurking around,

Where breath is free

and masks no longer abound;

Where we can travel and greet,

friends and strangers without fear;

Where we no longer reason over

how to sanitize the sanitizer;

Where we get breaks from dreary routine,

the house help comes every day,

Where we can step out of domestic walls,

and children go out to play;

Where a cough or sniffle does not

set alarm bells ringing;

Where being positive is

again a good thing;

Into that heaven of old normalcy,

my Father, let the world awake.

Image by Quang Le from Pixabay

Week 26

 Yes, another week to be thankful for.

Another week when ripples came closer, but we were safe and sound.

We had other challenges-cabin fever from the sense of being in house arrest, grumbles, and sulks. And we pulled along too. We were all so busy through the week and so tired at the end of it, that some of the quibbles got sorted out because didn’t have the energy or time to fight them out.

Good old hard work in the form of work from home, college assignments, school tests and no house help, does more for family peace than lofty words.

News came of my aunt who is very sick. I don’t know if I will get to meet her again. That is what this situation has done. Torn apart all sense of control, of predictability, of reaching those who are far away. It is a challenge to stay thankful as all the life we’ve known for all our lives is being altered beyond recognition. And all we can do keep up with the challenge, is to keeping learning, keep adapting, keep growing. No wonder we are tired.

India has reached the 2nd spot in the world tally, with no signs of giving up on the race. A feeling of inevitability permeates the society and it’s a tough challenge to stay safe and sane. Quite a few are giving up on the safety in the effort to stay sane. I’ve given up on sanity even before this began, so thankfully that’s one less challenge for me to face.

The new week has rolled in. Our tasks continue.

So do the prayers and the hope that the healing will start soon.

 

 

 

 

 

What I Wished For

I was one of the early proponents of flexible working hours/working from home, a decade and a half before 2020 coerced the whole world into accepting the norm-ready or not.

This was what I had been arguing for over the years. We shouldn’t be wasting so many hours commuting through the dreadful traffic. We could save so much of our productive time, energy and money. The environment could be saved from so many toxic fumes. The company could save on the real-estate cost.

While the whole world stood to gain, women trying to manage the home and jobs together, stood to gain the most. 

At home, I could do tasks in parallel. Run the washing machine while I reviewed a document. I did not have to settle for a maid who could come before 7:00 AM or schedule deliveries only over weekends. I would know what the kids were up to. And use the time I would have otherwise spent on commuting, in walking, chatting with friends, taking breaks. My life would be so much more convenient. 

Or so I thought.

Facts, I didn’t account for:

• Since I was working from home, and I was at home all the time, the corporate equation implied I could work all the time. And that took care of all the time I saved from commuting and some more.
• The convenient timings for the maid and cook ceased to be relevant when we had to ask them to stop coming altogether.
• The clothes would need to be dried after the washing machine completed its run. By that time work would have piled up higher than the clothes pile.
• The doorbell and the pressure cooker would follow Murphy’s law of ringing/whistling right when I had to unmute myself on client calls.
• With the whole family working from home, there would be always someone who would be hungry in between meals.
• For breaks, I would have to make my own coffee and clean the coffee maker too.

And a dozen other realities that are popping up everyday to remind me that I should have been very careful while wishing for this!

Week 25: InVerse

 

This week too was like the ones before.

The caseload increased even more.

With no controls in place and no cure;

there are no facts to reassure.

People are braver than ever before,

Since for safety they cannot be sure;

they have decided to just ignore,

the danger till it abates on it’s own.

They are hungry, tired or plain bored.

They’ve gone back to lives as before

The governments can’t control anymore

So it’s each onto their own,

To do what they can to ensure,

Safety for themselves and their home.

And to hold on to prayers and hope.

We Are The World

 

A nostalgia video was doing rounds on WhatsApp showing the snippets of the original album, along with current images of the singers.

My daughters peeped in.

Oh, I know Michael Jackson!

Hmmm, I’ve heard this name too.

Oh! So this what Bruce Springsteen looked like!

And then the questions:

Wait, what are they singing about? 

Is this about 9-11? 

1980s…. was there a pandemic then also?

They were singing about making a brighter world in the 80s and then we went on further with the climate mess to generate more famines and floods, and then came global terrorism, and then the current pandemic.

Damn. What would they sing about the world today?

Week 24

 I almost didn’t write this post.

What is the point? Of recording yet another week of just the same. Logged in each morning for office, logged out by evening and headed to the kitchen, and then did the grocery and cleaning and yet more cooking on the weekend.

This is not what one writes about. We write about adventures and highs and sometimes about the lows. We write about change, about the new. And this week was the same old. We remained at home, the virus graphs remained the same, we had the same arguments, the same discussions and it ended the same way.

But maybe that is a wonderful thing. Not having to not deal with new changes on top of everything else. Staying at home and doing the same thing may not be much to write about but it is such a blessing too, to be together and to be safe.

Let’s see what the weeks ahead are like. And hope and pray for the best.

Across the Bridge: InVerse

I long so much to go, across that bridge.

I can’t see much, because of the mist,

But I know it has to be better than this.

A world of peace, love and bliss.

Freedom from the struggle here,

full of hatred, stress and fear.

The sun dips low into the gloom

I leave as darkness begins to loom,

A new day begins on that shore.

I start walking, with new hope.

Dawn breaks and the mist drifts apart,

I look ahead, leaving behind the past.

I see another woman, beyond the stream,

Walking across, with the very same dream.

Crocheting Words: InVerse

 

Early this month, I had to send a dozen Rakhis. Usually this is a mini shopping-expedition for me. But this time I didn't want to step out.Thanks to YouTube and lots of left over yarn I managed to crochet some decent Rakhis in tiny pockets of time. 

That made me attempt the same thing with words-writing in the small pockets of time I can sneak out with just a hundred words to go. That’s all I can do to keep alive my favourite song, given the reality.

I too have a dream, a fantasy;

It gets stolen by reality.

It is that which takes control,

As I try to manage the home,

To juggle with office meetings

And all the tasks in between.

To struggle with family time,

And get a bit that’s mine.

I work harder, the dream I stall.

But still fail to do it all

Fatigue then begins to creep,

and I can’t help falling asleep.

The dream is cancelled for today

But I will get back to it one day

That’s a promise, or perhaps a fantasy.

For now, I cope with reality.

Week 23

I remember the childhood experience of watching a flood in Kolkata. The street had become a river. A man with a boat would come with essential supplies. My grandmother would negotiate from the balcony, a bag tied to a rope would go down with the requisite cash and come up with the bread, eggs and other miscellaneous stuff. It was pretty exciting for us.

We were safe on the first floor but the grown-ups would still look down and frown. The water level was still rising! It must have entered the garage. Another hour of rain and it will flood the car’s engine. There would be lots of hypothesis and predictions about how much damage it would have been caused, when the water would start receding, what the government should be doing and when would life get back to normal?

I don’t remember but I’m sure my mother and aunts would have stretched to keep the house running ‘as usual’ even though supplies were limited and unpredictable, the maids had no way of coming and the waters were still rising.

I am the grown-up now.

The house is running as usual but outside the numbers are still rising ominously and we have no idea when it will end.

When the virus scare started, I was just thankful that everyone had reached home safely. I was excited about having the family together and not having to commute to office everyday. Not having help for cooking and cleaning would be tough, but between the four of us that was one inconvenience we could manage.

None of that has changed.
Just that excitement is changing into exhaustion with each passing day. The adventure has become blasé and the newness has become routine.

From trying new recipes and competing on social media, it is becoming a task to even think about what to cook for the next meal. Is it just because I am missing my house-help so much? Partly, yes. Office work has scaled considerably as everyone has adapted to the work-from-routine. Now we are expected to be online all the time since we are working from home and we are at home all the time. Trust the corporate world to twist the logic every single time.

The kids’ school and college have adapted to working online-and they are inundated with online classes, assignments and of course the miscellaneous things that take up your time when you have access to your own laptop and Wi-Fi.

So the time for housework and the interest level have dipped considerably. The amount of work remains stubbornly unchanged and each week I end up feeling more tired than the previous week. And hope that the next week will come with some good news.