This is the quarter, when the isolation begins to bite, and we all get cranky. So said a wise man who studied what happened to cooped up astronauts, submariners and significantly, not mothers with newborns. Mostly that never gets mentioned, because nowadays the myth is that modern mothers give birth on Friday (to suit the doctor) and can be seen at their favourite coffee shop complete with their new designer accessory, the newborn in a baby-wearer or a sling.
Ok, forgive me, the above may be a myth, but I warned you that I was in my cranky quarter. In traditional societies, that are still alive and kicking around the globe, after childbirth, you stayed home for forty days. Mostly this was to heal because giving birth is bloody and painful, and to keep those bugs away from mothers and babies. Also if you went home to your mother, it saved you from the housework, and gave your mother a whole lot more work to do. But she did it.
Which brings me back to words and matters I do not want to hear or read about, first of all Hari Singh and Meghana Markale. I am sick to death of them, they wanted out of duty and royalty, so stop talking about their first world pampered little selves, and talk more about those who have stepped up. Guess what, no one loves to put duty before self, but most ordinary, unprivileged, unglamorous people do. I can only imagine the snorts of derision if I proclaimed I want to live my own life and be free of my family — and walk away. No one would care, and re that pair, no one cares either. Stop talking about them in a breathless fashion. They, especially Hari, is Namak Haram. Look it up.
Time and Movement
I’m also going to scream if I hear that these are “Unprecedented times”. Really? We have always been fragile webs of bone and flesh. I have the ugly scars of smallpox vaccination on my arms, like most of my generation do, malaria is still rife, and more children are dying of starvation than that thing even in these expletivedeleted times. Meanwhile last week you were allowed to take your jetski out, and this week you can go to your fitness bootcamp — neither of these apply to me. I want to go out to lunch with friends, laugh loudly without worrying about coughing, and go to church.
Which brings to me to my next word —“Pivot”. In regards to business, life and so on, are we all supposed to don tutus and pivot like ballerinas? It’s bad enough that I hated pivot tables with a vengeance in spreadsheets, and now everyone is using that term. Travel writers like me, should pivot to fantasy time and travel sagas with a dash of Space opera. It’s not that easy. So please, don’t tell me pivot, there are plenty of words that work just as well, such as shut up.
And unless you are a doctor or virologist, stop talking about the thing. And if you are either, don’t talk to me about it, anyway. Voldemort like, it sucks on your soul, and you are better off washing your hands, wearing a mask in public, and installing the Covid tracker on your phone than blathering on about conspiracy stories and anti-vaxxers.
Give me something to laugh about, something to think deeply about, or I am going back to reading War and Peace. Don’t flood my social media with news about it, or ask me to share dodgy videos.
What I want to hear from you, my friend is a simple hello, or news about your family and our friends. Also feel free to send chocolate. Here’s a hug from me. I do miss you and promise not to be cranky in person