Hello world, it's nice to see you again
Who would have expected the inexplicable build up of anxiety as I packed for my first trip in two years? The unzipping of a luggage I last used in February 2020, where I found receipts from little shops and eateries in Hiroshima and Tokyo. I recalled the apocalyptic scenes that unfolded the first evening in Hiroshima, where news of a Japanese tour bus driver getting infected with COVID-19 spread like wild fire, and the next day, all masks on pharmacy shelves were emptied.
How we have slowly tried to pick up the pieces, shoving "I'm okay", "it'll be fine", "I need to pause", every now and then to plug the cracks that continue to show. How the concepts of "boundaries" and "mental health" are now bandied about in order to bring a familiar understanding of what we need in order to gain strength from an almost-standardised chaos that will remain for more years to come.
Hello world, it's nice to see you again
I teared a little as the plane started its descend; the fluffy clouds and inevitable heart-stopping dip from turbulence aside, how reclusive we have been made to be, as we went about our lives in a petridish of diminishing joy finding. I didn't expect to be hit so hard in terms of emotions, in terms of "I can't believe I'm travelling again."
Throughout the drive to the airport for my flight, the wait for boarding, the in-flight meal, the sleepless night as the toddler behind me kept on crying, and his mother cooing at him in a higher-than-necessary voice through the journey, one line that kept replaying in my mind was: "is this really possible?" It was.
Stay(in)cation because self isolation
The sudden news of yet another variant threw a spanner in my plans, but now that you and I are veterans at winging it, I checked into an airbnb to spend the next 72 hours in self isolation. It helps that this older apartment on a trendy street has gorgeous sunlight and I can people-watch from the windows.
Thankful also for my sister who made time despite a lot of things she's facing, bringing me food (and a ridiculous but useful blanket jacket) to last the isolation hours away. Very miffed at the ridiculous 4.5-hour wait to take a PCR test, and this is one really big gap where you have a person from overseas wandering to find a PCR test centre, and queueing in crowds for long periods of time. I caught a cold from the bright sun and cold winds, and spent my first night with a slight fever, but all's okay now and I cannot wait for the actual holiday to start soon!
Grief is unexpressed love
This was a beautiful piece from Andrew Garfield which resonated so strongly. While I cannot say I wish for grief to stay with me, since it has already been 11 years since we said goodbye to our mother, I choke up thinking about her and the time we never managed to have. I want to tell her I'm doing more than okay, I have supportive friends, and despite the intense industry switch I went through this year, and stepping into potholes, I continue to do well the way I always have.
What I do know without a doubt is: We cannot know that people we love will stay long enough; we need to live purposefully and choose to be deliberate with how we spend time, and be kinder and more generous with our words.
Soon, it's time for Bublé
Wishing you a beautiful December, and I'm so glad we made it through this year relatively unscathed. Many of us have struggled to make sense and live within restrictions; many of us have felt despair. It's human to hope against hope, and we still do hope, that 2022 will be a better year.
Love,
Medhā