Masked city
Shall we forever be a masked city? Masks became the de rigueur accent to outdoor gear for everyone when the enhanced community quarantine was implemented last March 28.
Once upon a time, masks were worn only by surgeons, nurses and superheroes. And not because they are hiding dark and evil secrets. Masks offer passive protection from germ infection and pride.
When the novel coronavirus started to attack humans even in broad daylight, the simplest disguise used by community heroes turned out to be the citizenry’s salvation as well.
Masks, such as those worn by people nowadays, effectively conceal half of the face. It makes identification of the person behind it difficult to guess.
This is the mask of heroism. It seeks no glory or remuneration. It is satisfied with a sincere thank you. As recepients of goodness, we secretly promise to pay it forward.
I discovered other masks that the city wears. There are smiling masks that cover a broken spirit and masks that hide the rotten motives of the heart.
I have seen masks pulled up once someone ventures into a sensitive area of that person’s life. The mask is like the Great Wall of China that separates outsiders from the heart.
All along we have been no strangers to masks. I know of one type. It is rooted in our psyche. It can be a defensive shield or an offensive sword to help us survive. The hero’s mask is a desirable proof of power to help or effect a change for the good of others. It seeks no honor, thus it may not be for all.
A vaccine will be found end Covid-19’s reign of terror. The masks we are now required to wear may no longer be needed. But we will remain a city of psychological masks. The covers we use to flourish in the urban jungle will stay.