Ahh, the lovely scent of rain. I sit on a rickety plastic chair, looking at the R block park which is totally devoid of human beings and full of birds, chirping away to glory. Grateful, one couldn’t have asked for a better place to be isolated. Of course you could argue Goa or the hills, which just proves you’re clueless about exactly how privileged we are. The employees who make us rich- work in our companies, our homes, on our construction sights; three share a tiny room and have to share the toilet with sixteen people. So, forgive me, for thinking one has too much, my comparisons are different.

Feel better, sporadically some symptoms crop up- stomach ache, itchy eyes and of course the constant body pain but one keeps feeling like one is perfectly alright. Got some work done, after a week. Feel a bit chatty today, called up to check up on a few people, promised to party when this thing gets over.

But when is it going to get over? It looks like it’s going to be around for a while. The physical and financial damage it’s doing, everyone is well aware off but the psychological damage is rampant. Even for someone like me, who speaks maximum an hour or two in a day ( unless I am teaching), after a week it starts to get to you. This is despite having the floor to move around, just the thought that all of a sudden it might worsen and it’s packy, wacky time. Am I that unwell? No! I just always imagine the worst case scenario and then take it from there.

So if I were to die soon, do I have any regrets? Not anymore. I’ve said and done what I needed to, it’s a pity my will isn’t registered. Of course, everything will go to charity, preferably Khalsa Aid and I shit you not, if anyone tries to cremate me, I will haunt them till kingdom comes. What scares me is that all my Muslim friends who have promised to find me a place, to be buried, will not be able to turn up. Otherwise, I’m good, death can take me when it wants. Dying in my car would be preferable but on my own bed, is not bad either.

Suicides and depression, separation and divorces, this pandemic is just giving everyone grief. A famous couple gets divorced after 27 years ( Bill And Melinda) and it turns into news. The enslavement of two people to a higher ideal, ‘us’ , purely for the sake of an alliance to expand the family’s labour force, should have become redundant by now, once monogamy became the norm and after women became financially independent. In this day and age, what do women need men for other than war, I have to wonder or viz a viz. Vibrators, IVF, robots- technology is replacing the ‘ need’ for a man/ woman. Companionship and intimacy, aren’t replaceable but one look at married couples and it seems to me, marriage just sucks the passion out of love.

Around the world, divorces have been skyrocketing. There’s a 122% jump in enquires for divorce proceedings, states the BBC. Of course in India, young people are still opting for the arranged alliance and putting themselves up, to be tied to the best bidder. Maybe, there’s some wisdom in it, who knows. I might just be J, incapable as one isn’t a saleable package-average looking loner, with below average intelligence, with too many tatoos, a sailors mouth and a stubbornness that could only be inherited. I should turn this into a matrimonial ad and to it I should add- not doing it enough, will 200% lead to a divorce. Forget marriage, they’ll put me on a cross and torch me! I’m definitely putting this on my- if I survive the next two years ( Covid) list. It’s a work in progress, unfortunately everything on it requires me to grow up, which is highly unlikely!