Words From Moments of Quarantine
Remember, we were not a sad story
I hope I’ll be able to write more this year.
In case that doesn’t happen, I want you to know this. Because I will forget who I am right now, by this time next year. This quarantine would’ve passed too. And like, every vicenarian I’ll forget I also was once a teen. I, too, once had a dream. I, too, was once was in quarantine.
I write now because I know these days will become stories someday; our pictures will turn into old photographs without any filters; we’ll become somebody’s someone. But right now, these moments — they are not stories. They are happening. We are here — living these lives — our presents.
Perhaps, I’ll be able to collect some souvenirs from these moments and keep them safe in between these lines. Because, when I look back at what I’ve written before, I know — we were not a sad story; I know — we were loved, and these stolen souvenirs warm the inevitable cold nights, and I know — I’m alive.
Today, my city is in quarantine. Everyone is confined to their homes. Right now, If you happen to step outside — you’ll see unpolluted city lights, maybe smirk at the empty building measuring their heights, and admire that cursed traffic that’s now thinning at your sight. Then, if you happen to catch a breeze in your hair, a smile in your face, and a sense of wonder filling your insides — remember you’ve had these feelings before. Take a note of it. Savor it and save it. These words will become the bonfires for the inevitable darker nights.
Ultimately, when you are back in seclusion with yourself, lights out, and eyes shut — after seeing your version of our history, maybe the world will still be a perfect place for a good night. Believing, it’ll get better one day at a time. Remembering, it’ll be a story when we’ve survived.
So, shut your eyes, think of the last time you felt beautiful, the last road trip you’ve had, the last joke you’ve told, and the last pool you’d float. Maybe you’ll realize that in the company of these memories, you aren’t alone.
