Living through Covid 19


Our isolation is not over yet. I write this blog while we are in our 10th week of isolation. As I went to bed, woke up to a world that lost more people than the day before, perused the news about more information about the pandemic, logged in to work, ate lunch, went for walk, dinner, books and then bed again, life fell into a new monotonous rhythm yet the mind experienced myriad of emotions.

When our work closed, I remember, the first week was full of uncertainty, yes, but also some excitement. Due to school, work and travel, our little family did not have much of a chance to be together for the last few years. The oldest was away in college and then Spain, the youngest was boarding in school. Sean traveled at least 40% of the year. We thought we will be off work for a couple of weeks, we will practice physical distancing from the world, flatten the curve and life will be back to semi normal. In retrospect that idea seems so naive.

Sahana and I love to cook so, right away, we occupied the kitchen and cooked different types of food. We even thought of a cooking competition while we were in isolation and we were confident us girls would beat the boys hands down. When all this is over, I will look back on that time with a smile. We shared so much as she cooked and I cleaned the dishes. Our innermost thoughts, hopes, fears, desires – all came out in the familiar comfort of the kitchen, doing a task we both loved to do. Ryan, Sean and I started watching one episode of a tv show, Rome, everyday while snuggling together in bed after the day was done. Sean and I took long walks exploring the neighborhood, often accompanied by Sahana, when we talked about her future, our years together going forward. We brought all our board games out and played raucous rounds of Risk, Ludo, Apples to Apples. We smack talked, strategized, teased and laughed. We even bought badminton rackets and I showed the family who is the boss in badminton. Soon Ryan’s athletic prowess deemed my brilliance but that is not the point here. Gradually, though, the enthusiasm and excitement of the isolation starting fading away. Board games were forgotten, badminton rackets were rarely picked up, hours went by in companionable silence. Fifteen year old Ryan retreated to his room attending school and stayed there after school was over. Sahana still went for walks with us, baked a lot, watched shows on her phone and she talked. I got more involved with trying to figure out how to work remotely and Sean conducted all his work from home. He probably was most seamless in transitioning to remote working.

There were days, though, when sleep would elude me as I lay tossing and turning in bed in grips of anxiety. My parents were far away and I have no ways of getting to India if they need me. There were unexpected tears at this new normal. And with that came guilt. Are these tears justified compared to what so many others are going through? I have a home, my family is with me, I have a paycheck coming, my husband is getting paid so why these tears? Why such profound sadness?

Like thousands others, I figured I would document the ‘goods’ and ‘bads’ of this pandemic so future students, while writing papers on this historic pandemic, have plenty of primary sources right at their finger tips 🙂 .

So what was bad for me?

Fear. Fear of not being able to go to Kolkata if something happened to my parents. I had to mindfully remove that thought from my head before I could go to sleep each night. Every morning when I woke up, I checked my phone to see their activity on social media. Most days, I called. Fear was the worst.

Despair at the news.

Irrational anger at the universe for Sage’s death at this time. Now that I was home all the time, his memory haunted me more. I had a physical yearning to pet him, to have him back. Why did he decide to die all of a sudden? That was very bad planning on his part. I felt cheated. Circumstances will not allow me to have another pet right now. But I did not want another pet. I just wanted Sage. I told you. It is irrational.

Uncertainty about the future of my rising senior in college. Will she be able to finish her school year in person? What will happen to the lease of the apartment she signed if she has to take her fall classes online? Will I feel comfortable at work? I work with public. How bad will it all be in fall? Will I feel comfortable giving my friends a hug ever again? Will Sahana get a job? What will happen to college funds?

What was still good?

I really like my family on top of loving them.

I will remember this pandemic via the smell of fresh ginger garlic paste. Why? Because Sahana started a sourdough starter. And each day, instead of throwing away the excess starter before feeding the ‘mother’, she mixed some milk, chili flakes, fresh ginger/ garlic paste, some chopped scallion and made a delicious pancake. We ate the ‘waste product’ topped with fresh sliced tomatoes, home grown basil leaves, fresh mozzarella. You should have seen and tasted the deliciousness! That smell will always remain as a memory of comfort during pandemic.

Food that Sahana cooked, delicious and various. As an Indian mother, my proud moment arrived when my daughter made perfect samosas filled with potatoes and peas. My job here was done.

Ryan’s excited face as he explained one of his esoteric thoughts on aliens, historical facts and his interpretation of it, de extinction of extinct species. His constant playful bantering with his dad when it came to number of push ups and sit ups. Flexing of muscles and more working outs. His face, when flushed with the excitement of a new idea, made me smile inwardly. He was always a thoughtful child and while he tried his best to maintain aloofness as a 15 year old, the thoughts that came in his head needed to come out. His family members, at dinner time, were the best recipients.

Seeing Sean at work, listening to his meetings all over the world trying to mitigate hunger, poverty. And sometimes glaring at him for speaking so loudly that I had to leave the space to listen to my zoom meeting. Then laughing with the kids about it.

Sitting outside and looking at bunny rabbits play with each other.

Birds. So many birds. They were perhaps always there, I did not notice them with such focus. Waking up to their chirping and ending the day with their twits.

While riding this roller coaster of emotions, I learn to be patient, a trait I lack. And I learn to stay hopeful despite moments of despair. This will end. We will emerge. World will heal. Amen.

In the meantime…..deep breaths.

Frankly in Love


A book review I wrote for work.

CHAPTER CHATS

The book cover is yellow with the title, Frankly in Love, and the author's name, David Yoon, set on a diagonal, in a stylized, gradated green font with a visual illusion of falling into the cover.

Review by Piyali C.

FrankLiis a seniorin high school, growing up in Southern California. Heis a first generation Korean American,trying to find his identity in this world. Is he considered Korean,eventhough hedoes not speak the languageand has never visited that country? Is he fully American and does the world consider him so? He has grown up accompanying his immigrant parents to theirmonthlygatherings with other Korean families and hanging out with otherfirst-generationKoreanchildren,who, like Frank, are struggling to find where they belong. Theycallthemselves Limbo. Some of theKorean children have embraced the country where they were born, while others retain the culture and language of the country from which their parents emigrated.There is a big divide even between thefirst-generation Korean Americans. Frank is very aware of his parents’ blatant racism and knows he is doomed if he dates any girl outside his ethnicity. As luck would have it, he falls in love with…

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