Taken, for granted.

I keep telling myself ‘this too shall pass’ and to not obsess over every piece of news that I read. I keep praying that these clouds will go away and there will be sunshine, and we’ll get to spend our days lying down under the shade of the tree, surrounded with the people we love and good food, laughing and dancing on some country tunes. These thoughts and the view from the big french windows in my bedroom are the only things (and there is the occasional comfort food and dessert, too) that is keeping me sane – the promise of returning to ‘normal’.

From stepping out for coffee dates, sleepover at a friend’s place, a family dinner or even being excited on seeing an out-station relative or someone who’s returned from abroad with your favourite goodies, to aimlessly wandering in the city alone – this all seems like a distant memory. Times like these, make me realize that we took so much for granted – smallest of things like touching a door knob and not rushing to spray sanitizer on your hands or even talking without a mask on your face and being huddled in a group, a time when ‘social distancing’ wasn’t a thing. So much has been taken for granted.

87 days, 2088 hours, 1,25,280 minutes – since the day I have been holed up in my house, the four walls that keeps me and my family safe. I keep thinking what would have happened if I had not moved back home last November? What would have I done if I were still in Bangalore, living in a PG? At this point, I do not regret giving up the possibilities of an appraisal and a salary hike that I would’ve received if I had stayed put in Namma Bengaluru, and I thank god for this.

Since we’re all stuck at home with nowhere to go, the work-life balance has gone for a toss for everybody, with long hours and the line between weekday and weekends blurred, I have forgotten what ‘Friyay’ felt like . In the office, there’d be a spring in everyone’s step on a Friday morning – some had plans for a weekend trip to check off another place on their bucket list and get gram worthy pictures to show off, others planned to get sloshed in the evening and do ‘friyay’ the right way and nurse a terrible hangover over the weekend (with some more alcohol, maybe), or maybe just finish work, get home, complete household chores, watch a movie, read a book, catch up with the fam – just pause, before the Monday blues hit all of us again.

Fast forward to the lockdown, stuck in one place and with restrictions on movement outside the house (which have been eased way more than required, but that's a discussion for another day), our emotions have oscillated from being hopeful to restless to frustrated and to being hopeful again. At the start of all this, for most of us, the glass was half full, but as days pass by its more of the glass being half empty. Although I know each one of us is struggling to be optimistic as much as possible, doing every bit we can to hold onto a promise of not a ‘better’ tomorrow but a ‘normal’  tomorrow, and when the day comes I hope, we never make #throwback our most frequent used hashtag.