“Truth is stranger than fiction”. Nobody had imagined
that a day would arrive when a large part of the planet is forced to stay
indoors, for such prolonged periods of time. The movie “Contagion” (on my watch-list) depicts a scenario very similar to what we are experiencing today, I’ve
heard. But then, in that movie – like several other Hollywood movies – the US saves
the world. Truth is definitely stranger than fiction!
Frankly speaking, the lockdown did not disrupt my routine
to a great extent, because I anyway spend most of my time at home, preparing
for my exams. However, it hurts when your choice is restricted, when your
agency is curbed. Running out of ideas to keep myself engaged in these
uncertain times – apart from studying, I decided to record my activities for a
day, which are detailed below.
10.30 AM: Amma has asked me to clean the windows for
her today. It takes quite some time to clean them well. I wonder how the maid
completes it so quickly! Though the lockdown has been lifted, the road is quite
empty: the peak hour traffic has passed. As I dust and wipe the grills, I see
six cows, in varied stages of rumination and rest. A couple of them are
ambling along, like they own the place. On other days, a similar situation may
have clogged the traffic for quite some time.
The stiffening of a
cow’s tail and its lifting is the first indication of a cow about to relieve
itself. It is not that I am noticing it for the first time. However, there
is some intrigue to the whole process.
11.30 AM: I am not rigorously studying or attempting
tests today. Let me dedicate it to observations and sundry tasks. More than
half-an-hour has passed since I sent my friends a message on my observation
about the cows. None of them seem to be inclined to even acknowledge it, let
alone share the curiosity.
I was disturbed from reading the newspaper by a peculiar
sound. It was a squirrel, nibbling at the bark of a tree in front of the
apartment. Before this pandemic-induced lockdown, it would have been impossible
to hear it above all the noise. I have been standing here for the last fifteen
minutes, almost meditating, tracking the squirrel, as it scurries along the
branches. It tries to hide at the sight/cawing of crows nearby.
12 PM: I am checking the updated stats for the blog I wrote a few days ago. The last few posts of mine have not done well, in terms of views. May be, it is because I have become so infrequent in my posts that whenever I share it on Facebook, only a few people see it in their feed and fewer care to read it. I have also unfollowed a lot of people – resulting in “mutually unseeing” each other. However, the ones I am really angry about are those who saw my Facebook “story” but did not bother to open the blog. If only as many people had visited the blog! There lies the conundrum: do I write for myself? Or do I write to be read by others? Should I seek validation from others? Questions for another day, perhaps.
Worse are those who liked the screenshot from the blog on
Instagram, without bothering to go to the blog and read it at length. Did they
even read what they liked? Or was it out of habit – of double-tapping every
image that rolls down their screen, while they are busy relieving themselves?!
Lesson learnt: The number of friends on Facebook or the number of followers on
Instagram is neither an indicator of your importance nor your popularity.
Maybe I should begin randomly liking photos and posts - on both these platforms. That would perhaps increase my visibility. Let me sell my soul to sell my blog!
3 PM: I am trying hard to sleep. Over the last few
weeks, I have been sleeping on a mat. It isn’t a sign of frugal living or a
simple lifestyle. It has just become too hot. You can’t even call the
electrician now to repair the fan. The afternoon heat, a slowly rotating fan, a
near-lifeless road, the infrequent cawing of crows – seems like a scene straight
out of an art movie. Or better – from one of R K Narayan’s books.
3.20 PM: I gave up the struggle to sleep. There’s
Jagjit Singh playing on low volume, as I read some articles from the Indian
Express and EPW. “Hosh waalon ko khabar kya…” – the ghazal that
led me to Jagjit Singh. It was in my first year in hostel. During breakfast
that day, 9XM or some other channel was playing this from “Sarfarosh”,
instead of the regular Kumar Sanu/Udit Narayan/ Alka Yagnik crooning. Thus
began my exploration. I don’t understand the lyrics in entirety of several of
his ghazals. Yet, they connect. A line here; a musical note there – it
is sufficient to trigger a chain of thoughts and memories.
During hostel days, Jagjit Singh featured in the background
even as I studied…. In the later years, those ghazals hummed in the
background of many a late-night adda….As coincidence would have it, I am
reading an article on stories and storytelling. After all, stories are a
retelling & recreation of memories – individual, familial, cultural,
civilizational, aren’t they?
4 PM: The squirrel is back in action. Let me see it
at work for some more time. There’s also a dead rat being feasted upon by crows
under the tree.
4.30 PM: The number of vehicles on the road is
gradually increasing, with people returning home. It is clearly evident that
the lockdown has largely been eased from the number of vehicles and their
horns. I had never assumed that such cacophony would feel so welcome.
Am I imagining it? Or am I able to distinctly make out the
smell of vehicle exhaust? Maybe the drastically cleaner air over the last
forty-odd days has heightened my sense of smell!
5.45 PM: The lockdown has revived old games. We are
playing “chauka-baara”, a desi version of Ludo, played with cowrie
shells, instead of dice. It has the right mix of strategy and fortune. One can
infer many a life-lesson from this game, but I shall not get into it today.
7 PM: In high-school, we had a story which our
teacher called an ‘expression of the triumph of human spirit’. Any
answer pertaining to that text had to contain those words in order to be
complete. I see that triumph manifest before my eyes now. My parents have
succeeded in their endeavor to ensure my brother dedicates time for ‘online
bride hunting’ and are doing it in earnest. Having played a game of fortune
and strategy a while ago, they are translating it into real-life now! I want to call this "Love in the time of Corona", but it sounds too cheesy and cheeky.
Despite all the uncertainties, we continue to plan for the
future with a (sometimes) bewildering sense of confidence. It is the belief that we shall come out
strong at the end of it all which keeps us chugging. Hope is such a beautiful
feeling, isn’t it?
11.45 PM: The summer heat seems to have brought ants
out of their hiding. As I sit, trying to plan my schedule for the next few
days, I see a group of ants carrying a dead fly back to their colony. It’s
fascinating to watch these ants lift something which is multiple times their
own weight.
2.30 AM: Despite not having slept at all in the afternoon,
sleep eludes. And I don’t even have any gnawing guilt to justify this
sleeplessness. I now wonder what bothers me more – the fact that I am unable to
sleep; or the fact that I don’t have a worthy guilt.
I have read somewhere that counting 100 to 1 helps one fall
asleep. Let me do it in English and Kannada both.
Hundred….ninety nine….ninety eight….
Did all
of these occur over the course of a single day? How much of this is fact? How much
is fiction? Where does truth end and fiction begin? That, Reader, I leave it for you to decide.
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