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It is but true that these small things keep us going in the most unexpected challenging times!
Several are the instances and happenings that changed our lives in the wake of pandemic, which have become part and parcel of our lives today.
I feel as though I have been trapped in maelstrom for the past 7 months. Life for me during these times has been an attempt at finding some law and order in the pandemonium that surrounds me. My smooth sailing routine has now suddenly become turbulent. In the midst of the mayhem, I find it difficult to think in an organized manner. My mind refuses to stay calm, inundated that I am with the in numerous responsibilities that have suddenly engulfed me. Concentration proves to be a great challenge when I am into multi tasking in ways which are totally new to me.
Well, take a look at this: The idea of writing this piece which is in front of you now has churning in my mind for the past fifteen days. I have been collecting points; formulating my ideas and perceptions; and trying my level best to arrange them into connected parts and meaningful sentences. All the while, doing chores – like scrubbing hard a burnt pan at the top of a lorry load of dishes staring at me threateningly from my kitchen sink.
Gradually, I am in the process of finding out how turbulent one’s mind can turn out to be. Well, I had been thinking hard to find a title for this article, all the while peeling and cutting onions; making Atta dough for rotis; mashing potatoes, etc. Suddenly from nowhere there was this sudden revelation of a captivating heading. But unfortunately, it just flashed over and was totally out of mind the very next minute. All that stayed in my mind was that it was an attractive headline. However much I tried recalling it, it just refused to come back to my memory. This heading seems to have disappeared into thin air. What do I do now? No choice but to start the process once again and find yet another enticing heading.
Music is a key that opens this treasure house of nostalgia. I get totally immersed in music when carrying out my daily chores of cleaning, cooking, washing clothes…… Soothing Carnatic music, Scintillating Bollywood Music from the 70s and 80 and AR Rehman’s Tamil hits give me a good feeling and make me think that all is going to be alright soon. These memorable and melodious songs have raised my hopes of happy times in the near future.
Listening to Music is one which dominates an appreciable part of my life and so does my reading habit. But one of my greatest regrets in these changed times is that I am unable to read enough to my satisfaction. Few are the experiences which are comparable to the comfort of getting totally absorbed in an interesting book of your choice. I am hard pressed for time but still I mange to grab some time to indulge in this favourite hobby of mine and delightfully engage with the written word.
Just as we save the best for the last, I embrace a book at the end of a long tiring day. Just flipping through the pages of an E book or feeling the cover of the hard copy of a book lifts my spirit. It is rather inexplicable why some things bring in great measures of hope, but still they do and my books definitely are a part of them!
Suddenly feeling the loss of words and the ideas vanishing along with them are part of a writer’s ordeal and I am filled with anxiety and it is one of many things that have thwarted my optimism in these challenging times. But at the same time, besides these moments of forgetfulness, my reminiscence has been rather optimistic. A chain of memories has been rather enthralling during the last few weeks. I have been travelling into the past quite often that appears to be pretty far away now and I am digging into a depository of memories.
For me, these memories of my innocent childhood are like a comforting lullaby. I do not however say that those days were problem-free and that all was hunky-dory. But still these were the days when even the simplest of things brought us joy, and in the end it was “all well that ends well”. As I travel back in time to these memories, I swing softly in their lap, with a feeling of security and totally filled with a sense of hope regarding my future which I had felt during my childhood days.
As I sit swaddled in my comfortable home of Surabi apartment complex that I reside in, all residents have been meticulously following the guidelines that are listed for each and every phase of the lockdown and Unlock as well, which is still in place. Just like any other healthy society, there have been ongoing debates about the decisions that are to be taken in the apartment complex.
As we step into the Unlock-7 phase, some of the residents with a wary euphoric attitude have upheld the conviction that now we need to move on with our life by setting up a new norm with standard safety measures in place. These guys have made me smile and have given me the hope that we all will join hands together to create a harmonious and responsible community in the future.
Coming to my own precious little world, my family, this lockdown has seen all my family members joining hands together to carry on with the daily chores uninterruptedly. Acknowledgments and appreciations pour in from all the family members, complimenting one another for the chores well done. I give my husband a high-five for his well-made soft rotis, the art of which I am yet to master even after my several years of experience in the kitchen. When my husband appreciates the sweets which I make, I cannot but be on cloud nine. This leads to hope for a better understanding amongst us and a brighter future together with mutual admiration of each other’s success and talents.
One of the several amazing realisations that I have had during this time is that of my eleven-year old, Bittu who is no longer the little boy that he was. I feel proud of him and am taken aback at his maturation. It is in the night that we both bond with each other in a silent atmosphere. We sit on the bed, with Bittu’s legs on my lap, speaking of the mystifying celestial bodies, their inceptions and the perplexing unknowns. We wonder about their grandeur and magnificence and draw strength from the power of our wonderful planet that has conquered numerous accidents and calamities to reach this place where life blossoms. Then contemplating upon today’s calamity, we hold on to each other with hope and say, “This also shall pass….”
How can I ever miss that little one who fills tons of hope into the most affectionate hugs and kisses? Yes, my eight- year- old Munna gives them to me in infinite measures and this gesture of hers pumps me with the much needed positivity. Her lively presence is the one which keeps our home moving smoothly amidst the reigning confusion. Sometime ago, she looked at me sadly and said, “What is this Corona, corona, corona. I wish that this corona virus goes away immediately. I want to run out and join my friends’ bunch soon!’ In her bubbling enthusiasm, she drew the picture of a magic wand, an emblem of sorts for her “bunch” – a work of art that she has been exhibiting proudly. The moment I see this, I revisit my childhood days, and turn into a child who ardently hopes that yet another small girl’s wand of hope releases the much needed magic immediately!
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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