Time is flying away too fast, or on the contrary, it stands still like never before. I look for answers, only to hear nothing in response, absolutely nothing. Days now pass away in search for a “ray of hope”, which remains far beyond my reach. Bombarded with essential and non-essential information on the virus, I now know everything, thanks to the fourth estate that continues to make a scapegoat out of the common masses and divide citizens on man-made classifications, but only the exact time period when this pandemic should get over. I search for peace in between the chaos by disconnecting from the lonely and scared souls, least someone infects me with the fear far more deadlier than the virus. To beat all blues and dreadful thoughts, we make love at home, an unforgettable love. These fantasises help me in overcoming all fears and morbid feelings.
In the pitch dark room, with nowhere else to go but just remain like choiceless prsioners within the four walls, we make love to forget and forgive. We give wings to our fantasies to recuperate from the threat lingering like the invisible shadow of death. We passionately kiss each other and embrace ourselves in each other’s arms to pen a beautiful story in such strange times. We wake up after a refreshing love making and whisper “I love you!” , least anyone else can hear, with so many people passing their time by remaining locked in their homes. My eyes twinkle again and heart starts to beat effortlessly again; it’s a nice sensation. I turn towards him to caress his hair and bare arms. With a twinkle in my eyes, I emphasize, “Let’s make the fullest of this time.” Maybe rekindle the love that was disspiating away, or pen a new love story set in such a weird and grotesque context.
This pandemic is an unimaginable and inexpressible experience; it’s a test of human endurance and our believe in hope. I feel exhausted, both mentally and physically, by the news announcements and commentaries screeching unstoppably around me. I prefer retreating into my room to pen my emotions or sleep away in peace. In my writing room, I feel more relaxed and human. I keep writing down my emotions and thoughts that surge with the passage of every day. Despite all relentless efforts, there’s no respite from this pandemic. We are creating history, a history build on human animosity, political rivalry, ruthless competitiveness and unbearable narcissism. The pandemic has been an enlightening experience for many, those who never looked beyond money, who were too occupied in building their mansion, who felt invincible, and the list goes on. I can see hope quite lucidly when I write and discreetly pray for this strange time to end.
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