Writing is about fitting self in another’s shoes. The art of writing is synonymous with encouraging. The art of writing opens the writer too, to be the very weak thing he or she plans on encouraging.
I remember how I cried in front of my baby sister. No, I remember how she came into my room unannounced, meeting me in a pool of tears. I had no words when she asked again, as mundane activity, if it were a story I worked on that caused me those tears as I faced my laptop, that evening while mother cooked. I told her no, rather, I cry because I was uncertain about the future of the world, so scared of losing my muse with it too.
I told her I had to be out of the house to get inspiration daily, that I love those strolls at free walkways on evenings.
Sobbing heavily as I narrated, my heart throbbed like a hungry child.
She heard me, asked what troubled the world; and, immediately, I understood she hadn’t heard of the deadly coronavirus scourging the world; so, I told her first-hand, all about the covid-19 and how it affects respiratory systems and kills its victims in days.
At that time I thought it killed in days. I didn’t know there were asymptomatic and symptomatic carriers of this novel virus. I didn’t know — according to virologists — that symptomatic carriers are more vulnerable to covid-19 than asymptomatic carriers. I knew nothing then but fear. Fear rampaged the world. As it rampaged and made everyone speak, tweet, post, share news out of sentimentality, I allowed self buy into every narrative to stay sane. Now I know better.
We are over seven months into this global pandemic and I see that my fears dissipates with time.
My sister—a girl of say twelve, at the time before November 2020—came to me running, asking, the next day, if the virus had ended; if they had given the affected people medication?
I like how she uses “they” — how she applies the pronoun when she knows nothing about something, and in her innocence, makes no finding. She uses “they” at me when she wants to report my parents call to me. That pronoun “they” helps, and in my household, we’ve adopted it — using it a lot of times, like “they are calling you”, “they are calling you to come carry your food”, “they said you should fill the tank with water, now!”.
I told her the day after the day she met me crying that the virus hadn’t ended, and that sadly, the virus lives on, but scientists all over the world with world-class technology are bent on introducing vaccines before the year runs out to fight off the virus.
Today, I am proud that my prophesy did not just loom but is a becoming.￼￼