Locked alone!

So NZ is in the middle of its 4-week lock-down. I somehow slided into a routine of sorts once the lock-down started – waking up by sevenish, reading the latest on Corona, some mild exercises and as Nitish calls it “open the shutters” by nine. We call our laptop, reference notes, books a dukan (shop). The dukan is a mess but there’s something quite comforting about mess – the familiar marker, the unfamiliar receipt, the sanitizer, the stray sheets of paper, the keys, energy bar wrapper, the three cups of coffee mugs…

From then on, the war begins juggling assignments with long periods of failure followed by a small triumph. In the evening I break for a walk to the park and on the way listen to the whispering leaves and sometimes to the tender sound of the violin coming from the brown house.  

At the park I run watching the familiar and new visitors every evening – families playing soccer, people walking their dog, infants rolling on the grass and stray people like me doing their own thing. Its fun to watch the dogs run after the ball their masters throw… one smartie catches it while in flight. Then there is another one who plays with a frisbee. His strides are gracious, his dives gallant and his flamboyance gesturing a born performer. But alas he misses the disc. ALL the time.  

While Craig nudged me to move about and download some apps which I did, I still manage only about 10K steps a day while he does 20K.

Evenings are back with the shutters open. Wine takes stage by nine, dinner by 10 when SAS gives way to Netflix (I am watching The Crown these days. Its perfect in the sense that its good enough for one episode but not great enough to binge – keeps me tamed, on leash).

I did this routine yesterday. Today. And I am resolute (or numb) enough to repeat it again tomorrow. Routines give comfort, provide focus. They allow me to settle and not ask the big question these days, “What Next?”, “How Long?”

Cause if you are alone, you may hear your own wails.