While most of us agree on the necessity of the virus-induced lockdown, the responses to it have varied. For some, the first reaction is one of panic. How am I going to pass the time? For others, the thought of having spouses and bored children underfoot 24/7 is harrying. Those who prided themselves on their well-oiled homes now find things coming undone, from delicious meals to dusted photo frames, with the domestic staff no longer there to handle these “crises”.
Then there are those who say, “What lockdown?” I am one of them. I stopped working eight months ago and so don’t face the withdrawal symptoms of not having a work routine. I continue to be busy from the moment I wake up till bedtime, running the house and looking after my fairly fit 96-year-old father living with me.
As I do not like to leave him home alone if it can be helped and as I am yet to find a caretaker, it’s been quite some time since I have gone out. Such a situation means I usually have provisions to last about 3-4 weeks. So no panic buying. Of course, I miss the gym and my pilates sessions, but my tired body is secretly thankful that I have full justification to do only light workouts.
What saddens me is the environment of dread that has descended upon us. One doesn’t hear music playing, people standing on their balconies and talking loudly on their mobiles, or even family arguments. The fatalities have sapped us of our inherent positive outlook. A few people probably regard this as karmic retribution in the Kaliyuga.