I love short stories. This is mine; the one when things go better than expected, and in fact, explode, BUT they also go down, historically-speaking, far worse than expected, and explode too.
So my April 1st was March 24th. How, you ask? We were to move homes on 1st April, but we were pushed to do so on March 24th, because of the pandemic, whose noose hung over us, like a flickering bulb, that was on the verge of going rather off.
We were in the new apartment.
The world around had shrunk and continued to shrink. We were caged in a 3-bedroom apartment with a glorious view of greens and tall skyscrapers alike, far smaller than our earlier one, yet far more of a home.
To my utter surprise, the boundaries within began to explode- even as the world around hedged in. My mind was climbing over the fence, pushing, pushing forth, and not letting up.
As a routine of sorts begins falling in place, my mind’s borders expand exponentially, every day. New ideas, new novels, and stories float in from the skies, as I sit and sip my tea at my new study table. The days begin slipping by. I watch on a screen, in my cage- horrified by what has come upon this world of humans. It is unreal, yet I know it as fact, it’s happening. How could I remain untouched- although caged?
In the days that follow, I rejoin my music group, that I had left behind in India, and start researching and singing new songs
I actually begin the journey toward my Café, a dream I’ve long nurtured – I begin to bake, any flour I could lay hands on, I use up for baking: buckwheat, millet, rice, chickpea, spelt, corn-flour. Results are good, and at the very least, edible.
I pick on Netflix and Amazon to see TV show off good writing.
I read, and I read and I read – both on and offline.
I finish a number of books that had been lining my shelves, those I thought I’d read when I’m older. I am older already.
Then a First Outing- the world appears greener and brighter and newly refurbished as if I am seeing it for the first time after being reborn.
The pandemic and its weeds have reached everywhere, in a march so aggressive, we can’t de-weed fast enough.
The invasion is overwhelming and devastating at so many levels, as we all deal with being caged in our own way.
It is not over.
It will be over.
For now, this is my short story, as Thailand lowers its guard.
The adage Home Sweet Home has taken on a whole new meaning.
About the author
Kamalini Natesan is the author of ‘Naked Beneath the Midnight Sun’, a debut novel, and a passionate teacher of French. She has published short stories, essays and poems in various online literary magazines and print media. She loves travelling and cooking for friends and family. She is also a trained musician (vocal Indian classical).
She is currently a resident of Bangkok, and is of Indian origin. Visit https://kamaliniwrites.com
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