Skip to main content

Life in the Time of Corona

I can't remember the last time I felt I had this much time. Not that I was never the beneficiary of a balanced life within socialist Europe, but I had squandered much of it away, jumping from the consumption of ever immersive electronic devices, forgetful routines and the maintenance of social relationships. A digital detox felt timely. Faced with a swath of unfilled time, here I was blogging again after ages (does creative pursuits such as writing does not fall within digital detox? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯).

Time had flown. 2020 is a year that will live in all our memories till the end of our lives, not so much because of what happened, but because of what did not happen. A year that started promisingly with two memorable marriages of family and friend came to a halt as a tiny microorganism proved how vulnerable we humans still were. I remember when colleagues in the office laughed as a Chinese friend hoarded masks so she could send them back home. A month later they were asking her where they could buy some. When everyone was told to work from home, by June life would be back to normal, we all thought. It is already December and the flames continue to rage. As I would catch myself and my friends saying again and again,

"Its been a weird year".

However despite the isolation and the restrictions, life had gone on. I had survived yet another year as a working adult in a foreign country, lived through the upheavals at work. I had moved just in time with an absolutely lovely family who validated the notion that a fiercely stoic and independent life with lots of space is perhaps not the most fulfilling one, that we are social creatures who need people (good and happy ones that is) to help us ease the drudgery of life and make it worth living. And in 2020, I had fallen in love again, with a kindred soul thousands of miles away, whom I then committed to live out the rest of my life with. The irony was not lost upon me that after searching for my other half in many far off places all across the world, I had eventually found her back home.

While human resourcefulness and intelligence is finally showing signs we can put the virus and the year behind us, I wonder if life will ever be the same again. As close friends move away from Berlin, the support networks I painstakingly build seems to crumble, making me wonder if it would be better to move back to Singapore where the stronger relationships have persisted and perhaps even grown stronger despite the distance. These networks would be needed, not just for me, but for my future other half, and figuring another person into my future plans is something that I am still getting used to. 

However, more often than not, I find myself paralysed by choice, the choice of where to live, where to work, what to work, what to buy, what to eat (and during one time, who to go out with). The interesting thing about being adult is suddenly its all up to you to decide and every decisions reverberates across other aspects of you life. Unfortunately, even with the best decision you can lose out in some other aspect and nothing comes back to haunt you as a missed opportunity. It does not make it easier to see when someone else seems to enjoy that very thing you missed (the unfortunate aspect of being a social creature). 

Though in reality I do wonder how we live today is really our plan and how much of it is just us, going with the flow. As Forrest Gump said,

"I think its a mix of both".

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Fool's Pride

I was rolling up the sleeve of my uniform, preparing for a call up that might never come, when I realised that somehow I was overcome by a strange sense of pride, a pride that wanted the length of my sleeve to be precise as I have always pictured in my mind. Any longer, I would look shabby. Any shorter, I would look amateur. Then I donned the green, tightened the velcro around my waist and looked in the mirror. It was just like before and the memories started flooding me. I never really liked it when I donned it for 2 years in a row. Then I was in a place where I detested the culture, the harsh discipline, the unreasonable demands and the lack of purpose in everything I did. But now that it was over, when I look back, it was perhaps the greatest time of my life. The suffering, the digging, the starving, the cold, the banter, the rowdiness, the jungle, the marches,the mountains, the food, the stories, the friendships, it was all worth the 2 years. A girl friend of mine once asked...
2 comments
Read more

Marriage and All That : Part 2

"How about I get married?" "Are you serious?" "Yea" "No really. If you are serious, I can start looking for one" "Uhh....Nah. I was just kidding" After a while, she stopped asking me if I were serious. Instead, she would laugh it off every time I suggested it, which was the original intention of my question. For me it was just comic relief, this idea of marriage that parents back in India would pester their children with once they reached just about where I was right now; young, working with a steady income and of totally no use at home. Though when she did ask me if I was serious, I do remember feeling a palpitation in my heart, the kind one gets when having to make a yuge decision (#trump2016 #makeamericagreatagain), knowing very well that she, along with an army of aunts, waited for my green light to start searching for a bride for the most promising of their nephews. A NRI (non residential Indian used to refer to the ...
2 comments
Read more

6:15 on Hardy Toll

My left hand lies curled in a tight fist between my thighs, while the right presses stiffly against the coarse leather of the steering wheel, bearing the burden of the task. Though to call it a burden would be an overstatement of an activity that once gave me a sleepless 23 hour flight but now bordered on mindlessness. Now, being on the that road, at that time, when even the sun was too lazy to rise from its sleep, was second nature to me. Thoughts raced through my mind, thoughts about the destination I was headed to. The bulk of them recollected old frustrations and the remainder imagined new ones. My left fist curl tighter as I sped ahead in the air conditioned cocoon. I try to keep to the right of the two lanes as I drove, quasi subconsciously,  at 60 miles per hour on a a 65 mile per hour lane, which still had an additional legally tolerable 10 mile per hour buffer. Lost in my unending imaginings, I stay at that speed until an even slower traveler in front jerk me i...
1 comment
Read more