how it is fiercely about one breath at
a time, one dawn to wake up to, alive.
Much will be new when the mask is gone.
Like those new lines on our faces;
the footprints of the times of molten grief
on sudden demises, unprecedented losses.
much like you watch the score-board,
when your favourite team seems to lose,
only this time you are in the Noah’s ark
with your species and the storm is
intimidating, indiscriminately so.
Last year when we came to know about this Covid 19 virus, we were deadly scared. We all blamed China for this deadly virus and came to know of various things which we are quite used to now like lockdown, social distancing, masks, hand sanitizers, PPE Kit etc. Daily we got to know the rising Covid numbers. Then we slowly began seeing light at the end of the tunnel. Vaccines were being made as answer to this deadly virus. Slowly life started opening up and we began to enjoy the world and called it as “New Normal”.
Deception is futile now,
Won’t fall for the ruse anymore.
I close my eyes in peace,
Stars abound in the darkness within.
It is avoiding suffering at the cost of giving up on oneself. It is persisting in nourishing the expectations of others on our person, feeding and dragging over time a role that does not represent who we really are. For what? For the illusion of receiving affection, attention and recognition from those around us. But that slight melancholy in our gaze, that sudden anger, that emptiness in the stomach will come knocking to remind us of the urgency of the freedom to be. We would have no faults in choosing ourselves and our true nature, we would not betray anyone.
“If art is the mirror of the society in which we live, how has modern man, together with his innate creativity, mirrored himself in a world twisted by a pandemic?”
If with this question I was referring to the Pandemic of the eighteenth century and I was a writer of the time, which is very unlikely, but in any case, would the answer change?
How easy it was for them to say so, he thought. Sitting within the confines of one’s homes, where were they to understand the plight of a man who is separated from his family at these times?
The Kanika Kapurs, the street vendors,
the Markaz and the homeless passengers.
As they slowly moved their way out to further up the forest, someone spotted them and shrieked. They started running, while people around them ran helter-skelter. He lost sight of her in the melee, and cursed himself as he found himself alone.