Go Corona. Corona Go.

In India, as soon as we realized that there’s about to be an invasion by Covid-19, we began chanting the headline of this piece and tried closing the borders. It didn’t completely stop the virus from sneaking in through airports. But surely, we can claim that we responded better and faster to this invasion than the one by the British in the 17th century.

The lockdown in India started hard and fast, almost as if it were a young man who had watched too much porn, and didn’t believe in foreplay. Most of us got trapped wherever we were, like recalcitrant genies in mismatched bottles.

I happened to be stuck in a 300 sqft apartment in Mumbai all by myself.

To be perfectly honest, I can’t complain about the lockdown too much. I started self-isolating a week before they asked us to. You see, Covid-19 was giving me an excellent excuse to stay away from people, and it was not a temptation that I could resist. As an introvert, I got what I’ve wished for most of my life: a little respite from other humans. But life fulfills your wishes exactly like that recalcitrant genie that I mentioned earlier. And so, its been much less fun staying away from people when I’ve been expressly ordered to do so.

Hours of no one to talk to led me to write a “self-isolation diary”. I’ve been using this to preserve bits of my sanity (or prove the lack thereof). Here are some excerpts from my first month under lockdown:

Day 1: I was talking to a friend who traveled internationally in early March. She’s been in strict self-quarantine after coming back. I profusely praised her actions, exactly the way I praise all the men who’ve never harassed a woman.

Day 3: People saying things like ‘be positive’ and ‘let us all come together’ don’t seem to see the irony of their words in this context.

Day 4: Our Prime Minister did a drill run for the lockdown, and called it a “Janata curfew”. People were supposed to stay indoors and clap to appreciate healthcare workers, but hundreds of them came out on the streets at 5 pm.
I think they just did it to show extra appreciation for the healthcare workers who will have to save their lives from Covid19 in approximately two weeks.

Day 5: Self -isolation has completely messed up my sleep cycle. For the last 5 days, I’ve been sleeping by midnight and waking up at 7 am.

Day 6: Malcolm Gladwell said it takes 10,000 hours to get good at something new. I’m hopeful that, in 416 days and 16 hours, we will finally get good at this lockdown.

Day 7: Been told that ‘traffic’ is no longer an acceptable excuse for turning up late to meetings. It’s now “internet service provider” traffic.

Day 8: Opened Tinder. Suddenly “excellent at housework” is looking a lot more desirable than “stunning smile” or “great sense of humor”.

Day 9: I’ve been having a few lockdown nightmares today.
1. Internet connection goes down;
2. Water goes down;
3. Electricity goes down;
4. The demon hiding under my bed finally decides to speak up — “Listen, can you please clean up the cobwebs and dust under here?”

Day 10: I’ve been talking to the house lizard about taking on extra responsibilities once we run out of mosquito repellent.

Day 11: After sweeping and mopping the floors every alternate day for the last ten days, I’ve concluded that 80% of the dirt in this house is my hair.
I don’t need a cat. I am a cat.

Day 12: The only bottle of alcohol left in the house is the one containing sanitizer.

Day 15: Sigh. So much Indian mythology. They’ve been running Ramayan on TV and we have all been sent to Vanavas. I wish I was Kumbhakaran and could just sleep through the next 6 months.

Day 16: It’s not just men. Some of us women are also sitting at home, twirling our mustaches.

Day 19: Our PM gave another speech today. A bunch of people came out onto the streets again.
I’m not sure if this is a pandemic, or an IQ test that most folks are failing.

Day 20: How am I going to make myself wear shoes again?

Day 21: How am I going to make myself wear a bra again?
Oh wait. I should support bras because they’ve been supporting me.

Day 22: I have been obsessively following all news about Covid19. The teenage-girl part of my personality believes that she has a celebrity crush on it.

Day 24: People on Facebook have gone uber-productive and competitive to deal with the pandemic. I’m getting tagged left, right, and center on challenges, from saree challenges, to laughter challenges, workout challenges, meditation challenges.

Maybe I should start tagging others on “Not-everything-you-do-has-to-be-a-group-activity” challenge? That might help the current situation.

Day 26: The Buddha could reach enlightenment in self-isolation because he didn’t have the Internet.

Day 27: Everyone is now asking if the curve has started flattening.
Folks, please give it some time. I’ve only started working out a week ago.

Day 29: A friend asked how I’ve been so calm and mentally well-prepared during this time.
I told her, my father made us watch a lot of horror movies when we were children.

Day 30: Had to go out for a grocery run. I’m sad to report that many people were not practicing social distancing.
At one shop, this Uncle casually tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Where did you buy your mask from?”
If you go around touching strangers, a mask will not help you, Uncle. Thanks to you, it may not help me either.

Day 31: This lockdown has truly brought home the realization that time is a construct. Other people forget what day of the week it is. Well, I went one step ahead. I forgot that today was my birthday.

Day 33: The downside of being such a great cook in the lockdown, is that my weighing scale is starting to show an upside.

I’m going to pause my diary entries here.

A couple of days before I finished this piece, on the 2nd of May to be precise, the Government of India decided to extend the lockdown. I’ve been feeling in limbo ever since. It’s a feeling that makes me want to not give a conclusion to this piece, and remind you of that same salty uncertainty that engulfs all of our lives right now. Nope, no piece on Covid deserves a beautiful, rounded conclusion. Covid-19, if anything, has been a lesson in dealing with uncertainty and lack of closure. Now take my jagged edge of an ending, and get back to washing those dishes.