lockdown stories

Babar – My Little Friend From Chawri Bazaar

As the sole earning member of the family, Babar stands in long queues outside his school to get meals for his Ammi and five-year-old brother.

Babar was about eight years old when I met him last year in Chawri Bazaar. He is the youngest in the family and has three elder sisters. Babar’s father, a tailor, contracted tuberculosis and passed away in 2018.

After his father’s death, Babar’s mother tried to continue tailoring at his father’s shop, but she was also diagnosed with tuberculosis early last year. Since then – with the shop shut – Babar sits with a weighing machine in the streets of Chawri Bazaar, charging passersby Rs 10 to check their weight.

That is how I met him.

One day, as I was rushing down the streets of Chawri Bazaar, I heard Babar call out, “Baaji! Weight check karenge? (Sister! Will you check your weight?)”. I turned around and saw this young boy, sitting with a couple of textbooks and a rusty weighing machine. Jokingly, I asked him how much he was going to charge me.

With some amount of pride, he said, “Rs 10 aur saath mein ek receipt, weight aur mere sign ke saath (Rs 10 along with a receipt with your weight and my signature).”

I agreed and got my ‘Babar-attested’ receipt. When I asked him if he goes to school, he told me that he is enrolled at a nearby government school and aspires to be a sports teacher some day. However, he didn’t get time to attend classes regularly. His mother has been bedridden since last year, and his three elder sisters are married. With no one to take care of his ailing mother and his five-year-old brother, Babar is the sole earning member of the family.

Babar was my first friend in the hustle-bustle of Chandni Chowk, who along with monitoring my weight, also took it upon himself to teach me some Urdu. A couple of weeks ago, I found one of those ‘Babar-attested’ receipts in my wallet, behind which I had scribbled his Ammi’s phone number.

Also read: The Dreams of Shyam Bhaiya, a Chaiwallah in Delhi

It was 7 am. I dialled that number, hoping to speak to Babar. His Ammi picked up. With her evidently exhausted voice, she told me that Babar was not at home. She told me that since the start of lockdown, Babar has been leaving home at 6 am to stand in a queue with at least hundreds of others to get food for the day for his brother and Ammi.

This queue is outside the same school where Babar studies. When I asked his Ammi if she had enough money for medicines, she said,“Dawa ka kya hai? Bas yeh majboori khaati hai ki ek 8 saal ka baacha itni jaldi bada ho gaya (What is the point of the medicine? It is this helplessness that eats me up that my eight-year-old son is being forced to grow up so soon).”

I spent the whole day thinking about what she said. Surprisingly, he called me the same evening to share his excitement about securing the first spot in the queue for a second round of meals outside his school. I jokingly told him that other children his age worry about securing first position in their class.

Hearing this, Babar burst into laughter, “Chalo Baaji. School mein padhkar shayad first na aa paun, Ammi k liye khana lena k liye ussi school ki line mein toh main first aa gaya (I might not secure first rank in my class but at least I secured the first spot in the queue to get some food for my mother)”.

So while most of us sit at home and attend online classes, there is an 8-year-old boy somewhere, standing in a queue to get meals for his family – outside the same school which at one point was his safe haven and a repository of hope of a better life.

Maybe that is who Babar is to his Ammi – occasionally a student, but a shimmer of hope and a resilient caregiver, day after day.

Neymat Chadha is an aspiring anthropologist from Delhi with a keen interest in the intersectionality between childhood, illness, biomedicine, gender and labour.

Featured image credit: Charu Chaturvedi/Unsplash

God, Religion and Chicken Curry: Questions From My 8-Year-Old During Lockdown

Over the past few weeks, she has asked me about life, death, god, online classes vs. classroom teaching, meat dishes vs. vegetarian dishes, among other things.

My 8-year-old daughter and I often get into animated discussions about various things that catch her attention – whether it’s about something she heard at school, read about or just thought about.

For instance, a while ago, she asked me if she could paint people in her art projects with colours she liked and not the colours used by others in her class. I said, of course.

The result was a sketch of me with green hair.

But the lockdown has changed the nature of her questions. It’s not so much about colours and art anymore. Despite the online classes, the lockdown has given her more time to ruminate over things. Over the past few weeks, she has asked me about life, death, god, online classes vs. classroom teaching, meat dishes vs. vegetarian dishes, exercising at home vs. taking a walk outside, etc. While some of her questions are easy to answer, others make me wonder. I want to share a few such instances.

To make her willingly obey the restrictions, I sometimes ask her to watch television news with me. I know some news reports can get too much for a little girl, but it’s easier convincing her to stay at home when she herself hears how many people are sick and how important it is to obey all lockdown-related rules.

One evening, after watching the news, she asked me a question. “Mamma, what is religion?” I thought for some time and said, “Sweetie it’s the way we pray to god.” I thought this would be a good answer as she regularly prays to god, thanking him for things she has and asking him for other little things she needs.

I know over the last few weeks she has been praying regularly, and asking god to give her chicken curry.

The thing is, I have been cooking only vegetarian dishes during the lockdown as it saves us the trip outside the apartment complex. The vegetable shop is inside the compound, making it more convenient and safer for all of us. To be fair, I have been cooking vegetables using chicken masala – so she at least gets the flavour, if not the real thing.

Also read: How I’ve Been Keeping My 11-Year-Old Busy During These ‘Forced Holidays’

Anyway, I was happy with my answer to her question on religion and thought that would be the end to our little Q&A. But I could not have been more wrong. My short answer opened the floodgates to a dozen other questions that had been bothering her. From how many religions we have in the world to why people from different religions don’t get along at times, it went on and on.

I want to share some of the questions with you that touched me the most during our little chat. “If it’s just about praying to god, why do people fight about it? We can pray whichever way we want and god will listen to us. Right, Mamma?” I agreed.

Then she asked me if it was possible to choose a religion instead of being born into one. “Mamma, if you were not born a Hindu, which religion would you choose?” she asked.

Then there was another one on having multi-religious identities. “Mamma, can one person belong to many religions at the same time? Can I be Hindu when I want and Christian when I want?”

I know she loves the Christmas tree, cupcakes and the presents ‘Santa’ gives her for being a good girl through the year. She also loves the special biryani and kebabs we have during Eid as much as she enjoys feasting on all kinds of mithai during Diwali.

However, to make her more practical about life, I posed a question in response to her question on multi-religious identities. I asked her if all of us followed multiple religions, which religion would we mention in some of the official forms we fill up? I thought that would make her realise the importance of following one religion, at least officially. But quick came her answer, “Why should we mention our religion on any form, Mamma?”

“It’s getting late, dear,” I said. “It’s time to have our dinner. We will chat more tomorrow.”

As I fell asleep that night, I thought about what else she would ask me in the days to come and if I would be able to answer them in a way that would protect her innocence while still keeping her somewhat informed about the ways of the world.

And, as far as chicken curry goes, I plan to make it at home next week so she stops referring to the dish to demonstrate the usage of past tense during her English language homework sessions.

Smeeta Mishra is a communication and media studies consultant who strives to understand people’s words, silences, and everything in between. She tweets @smeetamishra

Featured image credit: Pariplab Chakraborty

How I’ve Been Keeping My 11-Year-Old Busy During These ‘Forced Holidays’

I decided to go with small tasks to encourage my son to expand his knowledge and skills.

April entered our lives quietly. There was no excitement over a new session at school. No new bags or new books. No anticipation of new friends, no new teachers’ names to remember.

School going kids all over the world are at home. Some senior students have online classes in various subjects, but the school atmosphere is amiss.

In this scenario, how do you keep pre-teens busy and occupied? There are two ways to go about it. One is to wait it out and wait for school to start. The second option is to plan the day with activities that encourage your child to explore new horizons on his own.

I chose the second option. I have a boisterous pre-teen who was visibly devastated when school closed down mid-March. He was upset when he was promoted without the school conducting exams in three subjects. I had to come up with a plan to keep him happy and entertained without overburdening him with ‘work’ and ‘studies’ – or just allowing him to watch TV the whole day.

Thankfully, my son is a person who listens to reason. He also loves to win awards and medals.

I got the idea from the art classes he attends once a week. The teachers started sending daily drawings which were to be completed and sent back the same day. Each submission earned credit points – appreciation stars.

I decided to go with small tasks to encourage my son to expand his knowledge and skills without giving it the treacherous name of ‘studying’.

Also read: Quarantined: Five Ways Parents Can Motivate Children at Home

So we, mother and son, sat down together and planned and wrote down details of activities to be done daily. It included activities that he liked and wanted to improve on – like quilling and art homework. We zeroed in on one Sudoku (for kids) a day, to improve the chances of winning the Sudoku competition in school, as and when one is held.

We finalised on one write up – essay or poetry – a day; a way to release the inner thoughts and hidden apprehensions or comedies.

And on a serious note, a few math sums – so that the numbers don’t break into a dance once school reopens and teachers start lessons at the speed of a bullet train.

The list was ready and it was accepted that once all the work in the list was done, he was free to watch any movie or play games for the rest of the day.

The plan works like magic. Every day, I see the beauty that comes out in the form of a quilling flower. The frustrated thoughts that pour out as a poem. The tenacity to stay sharp in the way the sums are done and dusted.

As the lockdown days extended, it became evident that school was not reopening any time soon. My son, on his own accord, requested for the next grade NCERT books to read through.

After all this, my son still manages to squeeze out time to watch one movie a day and play badminton with his father in the evening in the front yard.

As each day passes in an organised yet uncertain manner, I ask this question, how would other parents and guardians are succeeding in bringing some order to this chaotic situation? What of parents who are essential workers, what of doctors, helpers, healthcare nurses, what of sanitation workers – who takes care of their child’s mental development during such days of uncertainty?

My mind wanders over to differently abled children. How are such children coping with the house arrest? How are their caregivers coping in such difficult times?

There’s a lesson to be learnt here – it’s better for everyone if one can acknowledge and understand their privilege.

Featured image credit: Caleb Woods/Unsplash

Social Distancing for the Brain

If only COVID 19 was the only issue we had to battle. Staying indoors with our brains hooked to the flood of content flowing our way from brands, friends and colleagues has only made the isolation worse.

“So, what is your reason for today?” my dad asked, half annoyed.

I thought about it and really couldn’t come up with anything that would make sense. On the 22nd day of nationwide lockdown in India, I still woke up late, groggy and all shades of insane. Since the day the coronavirus knocked us out of our whimsical worlds and fantasies, I have failed to put things, my life and, most importantly, my sleep cycle in order.

I woke up and did my not so fair share of household chores – don’t get me wrong, the burden has been extra heavy on my parents and not me.

I then switched on my laptop to relocate to my office magically. One of the first lessons I learnt was that choosing your work station is crucial and that your bed should be ruled out as an option in round one itself. If only I remembered my own lessons.

It took me only a week into the lockdown to realise fully that my routine had been flipped. I struggled to find suitable places to work during the day, constantly battling the overpowering urge to sleep only to transform into an owl at night. As the day finally came to an end, mine would just not shut down.

Remember when you wanted to close your laptop and rush to freedom but it would mischievously surprise you with software updates you couldn’t skip – well, it’s a similar feeling here. I would turn and twist, steal quick glances at my phone and then throw it away, shutting my eyelids tight, imagining I was already asleep.

If only that was it. I would soon think of the tray of eggs I touched that day, of possible contamination and replay the events in my mind, wondering if I had washed my hands in time. And if I did, was it for 20 seconds? Oh wait, I won’t know for the next 14 days!

A calming thought, good enough to stress me to death – but not put me to sleep.

Also read: It’s Okay If You Didn’t Do Anything Today

As days passed, I was frequented by my old companion “over thinking” – whom many of you may be acquainted with – at night. We would chat about random movies, google their plots, read lyrics and of course, fuss over not being able to sleep, only to get back to thinking about another topic, another friend, another comment passed to a fellow student back in class 10 and wondering if he’s still alive.

The days become boring and mundane every now and then. As people put up marketing course completion certificates on LinkedIn, I only had first class in sweeping, cleaning and ‘no dust in any corner’ to boast about and really didn’t feel like adding it to my professional profile.

All the conversation, quotes and write ups on being productive made me want to procrastinate even more. I felt like punching every celebrity who posted “a look, I’m cooking and washing dishes” video. Thank god for baby and dog videos, or else the social media challenges, tasks and updates are getting harder than my board exams. One visit to Instagram and you get ten stories of people doing headstands.

That this article is mostly a personal rant should have been clear by now. But if you’re still reading, can we just mutually agree on how so many news channels appear to be doing their best to spread paranoia with their coronavirus updates? I wish that they’d consider a person with anxiety who is stuck indoors with the not so comforting company of negative thoughts, and what happens in their brain when watching their panic inducing way of delivering news.

Instead of self-introspection or the quality family time everyone has been talking about, we are all just out there following one trend after another mindlessly. One day it is Dalgona coffee, the next day it’s a pretty sari.

While challenges are harmless and people are free to choose how they spend their time, the challenge culture again can also have mental health implications. The desire to show yourself a certain way on social media, or the feeling of missing out on a challenge or trend, doesn’t allow people to relax and rejuvenate.

A close friend shared how he lost at a game with one of his friends the other day. A simple loss annoyed him so much that he abused his friend and uninstalled the app. What happened had got nothing to do with the game, but everything to do with the frustration, annoyance and the stress that the virus has brought with it.

With our busy schedules, deadlines and to-do lists, we had all mastered the art of escaping our own thoughts and feelings. But now that we are staying in, we are running out of reasons to ignore ourselves.

What we need is probably a lot more social distancing of the mind by following a good brain diet where we filter what we hear and read. It’s a good time to learn the art of being on one’s own, without posting about it. After all, there’s life beyond Facebook and Insta updates.

Rant over, scroll ahead.

Wamika Singh a writer, conceptualiser and a moody poet.

Featured image credit: Adam Nieścioruk/Unsplash

The New Normal: ‘Each Day of this Lockdown, I Choose Myself’

‘The New Normal’ each week hopes to bring you the raw voices of people from across India as they live through these unparalleled times.

Another day, another week, but who really understands time anymore? The number of cases are steadily rising, but so is the frustration and anxiety from being locked up at home for such an extended time – even if it’s for our own good.

But we’ve got to sit tight – many of us even after the national lockdown comes to an end and when certain pockets and locations see a relaxation of the rules. After all, the end of the lockdown will hardly mean the threat of coronavirus has been put to bed once and for all.

As we continue to trudge on, and keep our social distancing vows, our ‘new normal’ continues to warp and morph and change to the demands of an ever changing uncertain world.

So write in to us at livewire@cms.thewire.in with your experiences – in no more than 200 words. Mark the subject matter as ‘The New Normal’ and include your age and where you’re from in the email.

Here are some of the accounts that were emailed to LiveWire this past week.

Sanjana Chawla, 20, New Delhi

I belong to a ‘hardcore’ Hindu-Punjabi family and my parents are too blinded by political leaders that they believe in every WhatsApp forward or video about Muslims.

Despite being a student of journalism, I’ve failed to present and explain the reality to them in an effort to erase the hatred they’ve grown up with. Arguments and fights over their “Muslims did this, they did that” and my “can you stop making everything about religion” aren’t new to my household, but their “inki wajah se coronavirus spread ho raha hai” is a new addition.

No amount of facts or statistics seem to be of any use or help because their hatred runs deeper than the truth. I hope things change and they understand the actual reality some day – and not just what political parties sold and biased media feed them.

Siya Mulge, 18, Solapur

As a student preparing for the engineering entrance examinations, there are many questions in this uncertain time – the dates keep getting shifted and so does our consternation.

After sitting at a study table for over two years to prepare for that one big day, hoping somewhere that it would be postponed for eternity but also desiring to get it done with all at the same time isn’t a feeling anyone wants to experience.

As much as I like the idea of the exams being pushed back, I hate myself for being indolent too. Quarantine isn’t exactly a walk in the park for students like me.

Afifa Khan, 23, Sahawar (Uttar Pradesh)

With the onset of COVID-19, those working in MNCs and big corporate houses got the ease of work from home amid the lockdown. On the other hand, the heroes of our time – health workers, the police and other administrative staff and workers – are working tirelessly, risking their lives to keep people safe and provide them with essentials. For their work, they have been getting much warranted appreciation from governments around the world and the public.

Amidst this chaos, we must also acknowledge the work of housewives, for whom the workload has increased many times over. Many among those living away from home have returned, children are not going to school, office goers are at homes and domestic workers are not coming in. Some families have people who work in alternate shifts – one during the day and the other at night.

But the mighty house women of the world have to work both shifts.

We work all seven days of the week, day shifts and night shifts – for almost 16 hours a day. Our role has also been absolutely pivotal in making huge contributions in keeping the country running as unpaid workers. We housewives also deserve at least a little applause and appreciation for what we do.

Gaurvi Narang, 19, Ahmedabad

Waking up every day to my father conducting conference calls as he stares into his computer screen wearing a freshly ironed white shirt and casual blue shorts – an outfit there is much disagreement over – I see persistence and a will to thrive.

Ma endlessly scrolls through the BigBasket app so she can avail that one slot she has been waiting for to open all week. She knows better than to expect her choice of milk, dahi, bread and biscuits to all be available so she settles for all the wrong brands without a grumble. The least she can do at a time like this is not complain.

I’ve been asked to do the dusting and occasionally sweep the floor. I have started believing that my house is bigger than I thought it was. And as I’m washing my plates after having eaten, I realise how my “single-princess-child” upbringing is being reversed dramatically. It reminds me of my privilege.

I’m beyond grateful, if these are our struggles. My heart goes out to everyone who is unable to say the same.

Nuveira Hasan, Dubai

Technology and gadgets have become an extension of our being. However, despite being armed with the latest technology, we humans are nothing but fragile beings against this malevolent force of nature as it locks us in our houses.

Each one of us is trying to adjust to the ‘new normal’ – online classes, remote offices, masks, gloves, sanitisers – while we attempt to make sense of the march of the contagion. It almost seems like we have stepped into a Robin Cook medical thriller. With each page that we turn, we hope that a real-life Jack Stapleton and Laurie Montgomery will find a solution.

The virus has rushed across closed borders, passengers stuck in transit, students desperate to get home, children worried about their aged parents living alone. For many, the consequences are infinitely more tragic. Each death represents someone’s father, mother, brother, sister, spouse, son or daughter.

While I, like millions across the globe, wait, hoping and praying that the virus’s march will be arrested soon, the realisation dawns on me that superheroes do not always wear capes – they sometime don white coats.

Furqaan Jafri, 20, Ahmedabad

As part of the graduating batch of Ahmedabad University’s BBA programme, this is officially my last week as a third-year student. We shifted to the online mode of learning two weeks before the first lockdown was announced. Things have been virtual ever since.

This has been frustrating for me and a lot of my peers simply because it feels like the last few days of our college life have been snatched away. It feels like a beautiful piece of art being created on canvas for the past three years will now remain incomplete for eternity – we will never know how it was going to look upon completion. A lot of things remain unsaid – pranks undone, plans unfulfilled and memories uncreated.

The only sense of positivity is that all of us are in this together. Though not in person, we are all keeping in touch, we’re all trying to make the most of whatever time we have – from wherever we are. But all of us still wish we could have had that last batch photo, had a proper farewell and been able to say our final goodbyes – the way we longed for them to be.

Sampada, 29, Kolhapur City

It was decided that after the last day in office on March 11, I would go and meet all my relatives (the ones who matter to me) – my kind of solo travel. Then the plan was to stay with my husband – we are in a long-distance marriage– for a few days and return.

But the situation continued to become more and more grim as the number of COVID-19 cases kept rising. I had to rush back to my hometown in a jiffy as news of a possible curfew spread like wildfire from March 17 onwards. Things turned topsy-turvy with the Janata curfew, and after the announcement of the 21-day national lockdown.

The current routine has become a ‘new normal’. Three meals in the comfort of my house, loving in-laws by my side, the start of my dream project (blogging), and an internet connection that allows me to stay connected with my parents, siblings, and friends are some of the positive aspects I am holding on to in this uncertain time. The best thing is that I get to spend time with my husband after almost two years.

Karan Malik, 33, Sydney

Do I feel anxious, skeptical or paranoid? Yes. This is the current normal for many across the world.

Australia adapted early to COVID-19. Self-isolation and work from home was encouraged all through February. As shockwaves propagated across Europe, stricter restrictions were applied and the unease became permanent.

Having lived across multiple countries, I am lucky to not be in the US, a country failing its citizens, or in Singapore, who has been overly cautious. Australia has proven to be somewhat in between the two extremes. In India, where I still have family, the infected count is surging, but there still needs to be more testing for a true image to emerge. The Indian state, in my opinion, is more invested in image management than crisis management. I hope that changes rather soon.

I work in the airline sector, which has been thoroughly impacted, yet I consider closing borders and commercial airspace as paramount in managing the spread of the virus. My only hope, while I sit in the comfort of my home with an ample supply of necessities, is that global cooperation and a belief in science is only strengthened when normalcy returns.

Nivedita, 32, Mumbai

The days go by slowly like a dream of lost memories.
The smell of freshly-brewed coffee longs to dance to the tune of office chatter.
Walk by familiar roads seems to be a probable eulogy.
Video calls unknowingly elucidate more distance and don’t reek of proximity.
Self-awareness often gets mistaken for self-obsession.

Amidst the chaos, a magical cocoon exists for those who wish to be engulfed in it.
Whether it is reading that book that lay unattended;
Whether it is the long overdue call with a friend;
Whether it is the charm of looking at your earring collection (each of which has a story to relate);
Whether it is the pictures on your phone gallery that resonate freedom;
It all trickles down to you.

For most of us, we do not make ourselves our priority.
The lockdown has been a welcome bridge to address this gap.
Each day of this lockdown, I choose myself.

The question is: Do you?

Anshu Banga, 18, Alwar

To those who are reading this – are you eating three fixed meals? Working or studying from home? Have enough stock of essentials at home? Binge watching shows online?

Well, everything is alright then.

While people are busy abusing migrant workers for gathering at Bandra or in Surat, imagine how many of them would actually know in detail about the novel coronavirus? For them, it’s a new disease which has put their incomes on a hold for an indefinite period.

Now, pause for a second. These people are fruit and vegetable vendors, plumbers, masons, construction workers – many of whom have offered their services to us sooner or later. You’ve probably, at one time or the other, had conversations with your maid, your dhobi, your security guard etc and spoken about how hard life is?

Well, ask them again now. How are they getting food and other essentials?

We are privileged. Let’s not forget that. The ‘new normal’ has made me realise that getting proper food, education at home or working from home are all luxuries. It has made me realise that your freedom of speech can be snatched away from you if you are not fortunate enough.

Aishwarya Rohatgi , 25 , Patna, Bihar

To be honest, I am not jostled by this ‘new normal’, I wished for this for a long, long time because I wanted the world to stop, to pause and reflect for a moment. I just didn’t know this wish of mine would be fulfilled by a pandemic of this magnitude.

But this slowdown of sorts has made me realise that doctors, support staff, sanitation workers, vendors, the police and so many other professions are indispensable to our society. And that health is indeed wealth.

As a public health student, I have never felt more proud of all the scientists, researchers, epidemiologists and frontline health workers who have been giving their heart and soul to fight the virus. The story of the two women doctors who had stones pelted at them rejoining duty the very next day makes me believe that health as a profession needs to be revered more. Those two doctors are my heroes – along with everyone who is battling this crisis.

I can affirmatively say that you, me and all of us are handling this situation to the best of our capacities as long as we are choosing be more sensitive and generous in our words and actions towards ourselves, our family, stray animals and anyone that we can help. Let us usher in collective accountability and empathy in our perspectives towards one and all this lockdown season. And may the fourth be with you!

Featured image credit: Kathlene Macgregor/Unsplash

The New Norm for Buying Groceries

You suddenly feel like you are in a reality show – ‘Fill the cart in 10 minutes’.

The day begins with the sound of chirping birds instead of vehicles. You reassure yourself, “It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

You savour the quiet house, since the kids will be asleep till 9 am. There is no rush to pack lunches, catch a bus. No meetings you are late for. Your mind is relaxed enough to work on your hobbies. The unfinished painting gets a new lease of life. The circular coffee table get a new crochet cover.

By 10 am, the whole household is awake and various breakfasts are gobbled. A sudden urge to stock up the pantry and kitchen store gathers steam in your mind.

Now, this is where the new normal sets in.

To go to the neighbourhood store, you cover your eyes with glasses, nose and mouth with a mask. You wear slippers that can be washed. You pull out some bags and head to the store. The queue outside the store is already spilling out on the road, you join at the tail end and wait for your turn.

As one person exits the store, another is allowed inside. With a gentle reminder to spend only 10-15 minutes inside, you suddenly feel like you are in a reality show – ‘Fill the cart in 10 minutes’.

With a list in one hand and a rickety trolley being pushed by the other, you start picking up goods. The speed at which you load everything surprises you. You are at the billing counter in 10 minutes and out of the shop in in 15 minutes.

Also read: Diary of an Introvert: Lockdown and Why Community Support Matters

On the way out, you want to sigh with relief, but the procedure is not yet completed.

With overloaded bags you step inside the house to a pair of hungry teenagers. It’s time for breakfast Part II. Quickly, you bathe, drop the clothes you were wearing into a bucket of Dettol water. Then you step into the kitchen and make large sandwiches.

Armed with a cup of tea, you sit down to sanitise the purchased groceries. For an instant, you wish you hadn’t purchased anything. With a pail of Dettol solution and a clean cloth, you wipe down each and every plastic bag and cover, and lay it all over the kitchen floor so that it dries.

Next come the shopping bags. Depending on your energy levels, you either dip dry them in Dettol solution or hang them out in the sun – take your pick.

Whether this long-drawn process will remain the new normal for buying groceries or whether we revert back to the lacklustre ways of the past is anybody’s guess.

For now, this is the new normal. And the faster one gets accustomed to it, the better.

Sreeyantha is a person who sees the world in all the colours of the rainbow. A creative homemaker who wishes to capture the universe’s beauty in poems, paintings and short essays. You can read a collection of her poems here.

Featured image credit: Hobiindustry/Unsplash

The New Normal: A LiveWire Series on Life Under Lockdown

The world we once occupied has been yanked from beneath our feet. Write in to us – in 200 words – and tell us your lockdown story. We want light, frothy tales and the darker reality.

As a paralysed world grapples with the coronavirus pandemic, millions have been asked to not report to work. States are issuing lockdowns with no end in sight.

But even as many of us are at home, anxious as we are, let us also acknowledge that there are millions more who cannot afford the option, and who are facing a loss of basic livelihood as this pandemic rages across borders.

Plenty of Indians don’t have the luxury of withdrawing from the public. For many, the work is already gone. Others face talk of salary cuts and layoffs.

Discrimination has also taken off – a recent LiveWire story pointed out how many from Northeast India have faced hostile, racist comments. As the crisis continues, let’s hope people fight this with love and support, and not hate and bigotry.

Mostly we’ve got to sit tight at home and do our best to “flatten the curve”.

Some of us are taking to isolation like fish to water, taking in the joys of doing laundry at lunch time, rustling up magnificent meals, committing to fitness regimens, nurturing their plants and soaking in all that family time.

People are turning to books, Netflix, learning languages and the like to occupy all the time not having to commute to work (or meet anyone) can create. It’s not unlikely that many artists and writers will use this time constructively – these are mad times after all, making it all the more likely for inspiration to spark.

Cabin fever is never far off; neither is loneliness and longing for a past pre-2020 life.

Or the unending anxiety as news floods in continuously on our phones.

Many are fighting battles at home – where family members are still defiantly stepping out despite our pleas. With the higher mortality rate among the elderly, a novel role reversal has kicked in – with young people protecting their older family from misinformation, WhatsApp forwards and egos.

There has also been a spike in domestic violence cases – the crisis makes it harder for victims to seek help.

Vox’s Ezra Klein warned of a “social recession” – an epidemic of loneliness brought on by isolation. So checking in on your friends is more important than ever.

Let’s not forget the overjoyed pets, who are ecstatic to see you at home 24/7 – but is your cat jumping on your laptop in the middle of a conference call? Is your dog just too needy?

Taken together, the world we lived in has been yanked from beneath our feet.

Lives are going to be lost, jobs and savings will disappear. And we will adapt – it’s already begun.

It is a new world full of new stories.

We want to hear yours – every week in this new column breaking down what it’s like living in this new world.

This is the new normal.

Write in to us – in 200 words – with the subject line ‘The New Normal’, and tell us your lockdown story. We want both light, frothy tales and the darker reality.

And while you’re writing: Stop touching your face.

Featured image credit: Pariplab Chakraborty