The lockdown and a bridge yet too far

IN 1987, MY FATHER WROTE, “SHOW COURAGE AND CONFIDENCE, NOT WEAKNESS.” I’VE FRAMED THAT PITHY NOTE OF SIX WORDS

milk, messed up the eggs, burnt the toast and scalded my hands, teaching me that multi-tasking in the kitchen is not for newcomers.

Prior to the lockdown, I travelled to many countries from Brazil to Singapore, studying markets. Now, I work from home. After lunch, from 2pm to 8.30pm, I attend to my professional work. However, my billings have plummeted by 90%. I wonder what the future holds.

Earlier, home was my base camp. I came home to eat, refresh, sleep and to get set for another day in office. Now, home is the base camp and the workplace. I’ve converted the dining room, which has a large table, into my office.

Living alone is an exacting experience. Cleaning the dishes is a dreaded chore. I’ve become an expert on which scouring powder is best for the dishes. Pots and pans are the most painful to clean, since scrubbing the edges to make the grease vanish consumes inordinate time and effort. Normally when we dine, our tables are adorned with spoons, forks and knives. We barely notice these tiny steel creatures, which facilitate our dining. It’s only when one rinses the cutlery later that one realises the attention required to make each piece sparkle again.

Sometimes, I feel alone. Then I go and spend time in my father’s room. He passed away at 95, three years ago. In 1987, when I went through a rough patch, he had written a note, “Show courage and confidence, not weakness.” I have framed that pithy note of six words. So, when I feel a bit despondent, I read his message. Then, I feel invigorated.

I’ve made a list of the people who contributed to my life. I contacted them to thank them for whatever they did for me, even 50 years ago. I thanked those who bowled bouncers, too. The lockdown has helped me refresh relationships.

I wonder when this crisis will end. We’ve never faced a situation of this nature and magnitude. We fight an invisible virus, travelling and attacking at will, transforming social human beings into solitary souls and fostering narcissism. The vaccine is yet 12 to 18 months away.

In the movie Out of Africa, when Karen’s coffee farm burns in the middle of the night, her Kenyan houseboy Juma awakens her and announces, “I think God is coming.” I hope this time God will come to douse the fires of anguish consuming so many of us on earth. Win we will, but how far away is our victory? The vaccine to fight Covid-19 is yet a bridge too far.