Lockdown has now lasted so long, we have forgotten what we are hiding from. Sheltering at home is becoming a habit now, as stepping out is becoming harder work day by day: wear ur mask, resist touching it even if ur nose is itching, walk to the closest store when it's hottest in the day so it's not as crowded; or drive the dirty car that hasn't been cleaned in days just to keep its tires from giving up, use the wipers and that secret stored liquid to barely clean the windshield so you can see and not kill someone, when you step out make sure you sanitize hands after every human touch, and limit that to echanging food/grocery and money, maybe explain to the cop who is stopping you why you are out, through your mask, annoyed at being stopped cos life outdoors is a pain anyway now, and more after a car with masked kids and adults overtakes you and then wants to swerve to cut you; all this when both cars are in the wrong lane anyway cos the right one is barricaded by the same cops. And then come home, wipe wash what you can of the food or grocery, sanitize ur purse, wash ur hands, ask hubby to take the eggs out of their case which you hold (cos it might be infected) while he puts them in the fridge. Wash ur hands again, they are now dehydrated and the skin is peeling off. Moisturise. 

And then maybe later when ur at peace, feel guilty about it cos u've just seen yet another statistic, read another article of the dying people, the sick people, and worse the hungry and the poor who have no jobs and no food and are walking with sacks of PDS ration night and day just to GO HOME, in trying to keep you out of infection's way.

And last night it thundered like it was the end of the world. And you kept sneezing and didn't sleep; and now the wind roars like it wants to destroy all (evil). But it's also gulmohar season, those flames of beauty at every other corner, one in front of ur home and one reflecting in the balcony window behind, bunches of sindoor amidst green, misplaced amongst their washing machine, mop cloths and sticks and myriad buckets and cans of paint (probably empty and recycled). Are you sleeping or awake, are you dead or alive? Will whatever this is, go on, or end?!