Our corona diary.

[Text and photo by Tanmay]

I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona… and I see a cup of insipid tea. Pages of ‘The Stranger’ fluttering lazily, the melancholy, and resounding acceptance, emanating from them seems like a befitting homage to Albert’s philosophy.

In the background, dolefuly whistles the pressure cooker. It’s khichdi, again. “Khichdi is healthy man’s meal”, I try to lure myself to ingest it. Most probably, Casper, the labrador, has earned himself yet another “treat”.

Cigarettes, and their vestiges, lie strewn across the study-desk. The empty jar of water pleads to be hydrated again.

It’s a woe to be old-school when it comes to courting time; pens lie spent, having voided themselves dry while drenching the diaries with ink.

Amidst this murderous monotony, there remains hope — the window — the only ingress of sunlight in the room where I rest. Scintillating sights of burgeoning blooms shimmer through the cigarette smoke, they uplift my spirit. They say to me, “Spring is about to come again.”

“We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a brief diary starting with “I close my eyes in my self-isolation from Corona… and I see…” Not more than 100 words. With a horizontal-sized selfie, along with your city name… please mail to me at mayankaustensoofi@gmail.com.