Things have returned to normal and, we are out and about, attending Study Circles, going to meet cousins in their homes, having friends drop in and, even sitting at restaurants. Sometimes I can’t believe that half the year ticked by already , mostly spent in an anxious, disconcerting, and quiet bubble at home.
These past six months have been extremely surreal. So many of us, those who could, retreated into our homes, rarely venturing out , except for essential errands, going to the front gate to pick up a delivery , going deeper and deeper into oneself and the few that one was locked at home with.
Now that I am re-emerging from a lock down that I personally observed much longer than Pakistani society, I am reconnecting or re-plugging myself into a ‘normal’ life and rhythm. It is astonishing that this moment has finally arrived , after so long, and, one can truly relish and appreciate small pleasures, nay, the real pleasures of life, being with friends, attending activities which mean the world to us, and, enjoying a cup of tea with friends in the bazaar.
Going into the lock down felt like disappearing into an unknown time space, disconnecting from one’s ‘normal’ life, the life one took for granted, I suppose. Weeks went by like this: waking up to only to spend rest of the day on the sofa, glued to Netflix. I felt like I had miles and miles of days, endless nights, kilograms of time that I could enjoy, blamelessly devour films and series, guiltlessly oversleep and overeat. There was no inclination to do anything, to move, to make the most of this extra time space.
Without even realising it, my heart was sad. Some kind of melancholy would settle in and, one had to move to another corner of the house for change.
Thankfully, having a child as bright and delightful as Kavita, forced me to stay loyal to some type of a routine because otherwise, for sure, I would have descended into even more of a slobbering mess. Her online schooling kept me quite busy and enraged in the beginning, each mountain load of homework would send me off on an existential and social rant. The absurdity of an unimaginative work-load heavy online schooling system launched an armada of resentful ships in my mind.
Weeks would go by without leaving the house for anything except for an evening walk. I did not need to go to the bazaar because everything could be delivered at home: groceries, medicines, restaurant deliveries. Even a fruit and veg truck started making regular rounds in our neighbourhood and one could go and pick one’s choice of fresh produce. This immense privilege also prompted a lot of guilt and social angst. In the first few weeks of the lock down, the posh F-11/4 neighbourhood and beyond seemed to be full of poor folks on the road, going from house to house asking for charity.
Being at home for so long , feeling stuck, reminded me of summer holidays when my siblings and I would be bored , forced to come up with projects for fun, compelled to watch the same movies and cartoons over again, and fight and play with each other. We would explore parts of the house.
Being confined to one’s home in this Pandemic forced me, as an adult, to do a lot of clean up, go through boxes of stuff , childhood toys and things, and school books, reading books, even my stationery, stationery which I still buy and never use, just to keep, which Kavita eagerly started to use. I made Kavita a makeshift tent out of sticks. My father taught Kavita Scrabble, Monopoly and chess during this time. Thankfully, Kavita has found a playing companion in her grandfather and, the two love to water the plants , drink tea, play games, and now she even cuts his hair and nails.
One is so used to moving around that being at home for weeks and weeks makes one feel as if one has stopped moving. The Theory of Relativity says that time and space are relative to each other. Time moves differently depending on how fast you are moving.
But during the most lethargic, lazy and depressing days, which would appear cyclically of course, it felt like I couldn’t make sense of time or space and, the larger reality that enveloped the whole world. All headlines were about were the Pandemic. All we thought about, watched, and discussed was the Pandemic and, the social and systematic rot it had exposed. There were a few moments when it felt like the world was crashing which of course, excited even a more terrible outcry from me, aimed at the online school system which did not prepare even one Pandemic related lesson for children, cheerfully plodding along, dumping maths and dull English classes, in total oblivion to a global reality.
Being stuck at home for weeks and months kind of felt like a complete standstill, both in terms of time and space. Weeks and months were being sucked into this Pandemic. Without doing anything, meeting people, and being part of a normal life, I felt completely stagnant, locked in the house. Without moving much, without doing much, I felt like nothing was happening. To me. Of course, time was still moving, even with a stagnant me on the couch, engrossed in time travel series like Dark , was consuming days and days of time, guiltlessly. But I was not moving or doing anything, stuck at home. This couldn’t be life, could it?
Things got so homey and lazy and depressing that I had to start wearing ‘outside’ clothes just to lift my spirits.
The seriousness of this time really entered in me during the first half of the self isolation. As I consumed news, analysis and social commentary on bumbling and selfish states, more concerned with economies than people, as it became apparent that most of the Pakistani people weren’t too fond of wearing masks and social distancing, I became quite serious. I say this, now, with an amused smile. I became so serious about it all, about how irresponsible our own state was by lifting the lock down too soon, seeing people without masks during my evening walks, loudly bitching about it, and, internalising so much anxiety and concern. I rejected and mentally banned Eid, the idea that people were celebrating it loudly with as much fanfare as usual. I resented all the normal families who were gorging on Eid feasts while I was banning it in my mind. We should all stay at home, be miserable, sacrifice festivities until the Pandemic was completely gone, I so declared. I was so self righteous.
I ordered Haresh to not attend an Eid party in Monrovia. He initially agreed but then of course he went. He himself was carefully isolating himself at home in our apartment. He once again tried to make his 6-pack abs and posted about a week’s worth of daily push ups on Facebook before giving up again. He tired his best to distance socially but now and then he met friends.
But how long can one stay serious and braced all the time for disaster? I started to feel less indignant and serious in June and July. There was a birthday party. A friend popped in to say hello. Meeting up in the Park with friends. I started yielding to socialising, gingerly, by calculating risks and yields.
Of course, things were still so uncertain and still are. My travel plans back to Liberia were on indefinite hold. I haven’t been able to plan anything beyond a month at a time, hoping that eventually things will return to normal , to relative safety and, I can start going back to Liberia to be together with Haresh.
Now, we are in 4th week of September and, things definitely feel more normal. I feel like I have emerged from this difficult time and, can sense that perhaps things will finally start looking more positive. There is a sense of relief , ease and less anxiety about Corona , the possibility of getting it, social crisis and suffering, at least in Pakistan. Somehow, it seems Pakistan has escaped a nightmare scenario with high death tolls as it was being predicted in March and April. The world is still in its grip and, idea of international traveling is tinged a little with a sense of risk. Nevertheless, both regions of the world, South Asia and West Africa, I associate myself with, have emerged safely.
It feels like one has re-emerged into a normal life again, but in bits and pieces. Almost like going through a portal, a machine of sorts. Going in to the lock down, like with so many other billions on this planet, willingly and unwillingly, especially those who are on the fringes of our civilised societies and systems, was in bits and pieces. Mentally and rationally we entered our homes for the forseeable future, settled into these spaces and stopped going out. Then, emotionally, we accepted the long lock down, the uncertainty of it, the long long night of a melancholy fever, restless and quiet and angry. Now, in bits and pieces, I feel like I have emerged from this space, this lock down, which I seriously and self righteously stayed in, long after Pakistani society had flung aside masks and caution. I started becoming much less indignant and anxious.
Now I am left with this nagging question. What were these lock downs about? What did they mean globally and what did it mean for Pakistan? What mattered most to the world? People or economies? Should poor countries have attempted lock downs ? Can you really shut down a country which has so many poor people, servants or helpers as the privilege lot wants to call them now? Can you lock down a country where cities have slums ? Can you shut down a country where the rich order food , tech toys and gifts on their phones to be delivered by people who can’t lock down? Who really took this Pandemic seriously in Pakistan? Does anyone care about it anymore?
These markers are not really very clear and, life has returned to normal in The Land of the Pure. Wear a mask, don’t wear a mask. Be socially responsible, or don’t. Continue to exercise caution. Or, who cares? Even if so many did not die, but who died? Will we ever know or care? So many other crises befell Pakistan since then, especially the floods, most likely related to climate change and environmental degradation, and took more lives. But who cares? If we are not prepared for annual flooding, how could we ever be ready for a global Pandemic? Did we ever have enough ventilators and hospitals and doctors, whether or not you lock down a country of hundreds of millions?
There so many crises, emergencies, and systemic inequalities at any given time in Pakistan but we remain oblivious to them, especially if they only affect the poorer classes or parts of the country. There are always vulnerable people, exposed to the elements, crises, poverty, inflation, and so on which we The Privileged are immune to.
As I grapple with big ideas, analyse and process this year, and my own vulnerabilities and descent into a stagnant time space, I am grateful to have emerged back into a normal life with my friends and family. I am relishing these normal moments of visiting and meeting friends, sitting in a coffee shop and, and enjoying life.
