Musings of a White Haired Teenager

July 30, 2021: And how shall we respond? The news is troubling, even as a steady state is being reported and the Angels are focused on coordinating testing and some vaccine appointments, we have not had to handle the need for beds, O2, and the other things that consumed us just about three months ago. I have taken some people to get vaccinated, especially those who find it tricky to negotiate the digital portal to arrange the vaccinations and set up the appointments. Some people, especially in out of the way locations are finding it tricky to find vaccines. Everyone is watching out for everyone else. This is how we respond. There is an awareness of the communal responsibility. But elsewhere the response is still being debated. In an eerie return to the squabbles over to mask or not to mask, as the numbers are changing in America, the advisors are again dithering. To vaccine or not to vaccine. Thankfully, that is not a large issue with the people I have been assisting with vaccinations.

July 29, 2021: Nimno chaap (low pressure). I have not seen rain like this since about 1975. It has rained nearly continuously. It comes in bands, sometimes the visibility is so low that one almost needs to pull over and wait. Everything is wet. Yet, within my real bubble, where I operate, the streets have not been flooded. Even if it becomes tricky to drive because of visibility, the roads are clear. Much is happening as the time draws close for a change in the real space, at least for some time, and many things to be done. In the hybrid life, choices have to be made that are different from the old days. No one I work with actually talks about me being away. It is only whether it is screen time or face time. Had a very interesting exchange with colleagues who asked, “Where are you?” I was able to say confidently, “On the screen.” That is all. For the first time in my life, over the last several months I had a sense of freedom from place. As long as I was available on the screen or in t

July 28, 2021: Some traumas live forever. This is a date etched in memory. Not of COVID-19, not of the now. But before. Long before. When my son was in that strange age when you he was young but getting to a point where his decisions and opinions were valuable because he could maintain a sense of balance that my wife and I might lose when faced with a crisis. A personal crisis. Today, I relived that day, in my mind, as my family does every year. It was a pleasant morning; we were all rested as the flight landed in Heathrow. There was a mood of upliftment amongst us. In those times there were many flights between India and London, and the flight we took might actually have been from the city. We always travel heavy. I have never fully understood how we travel so heavy. In the really old days, as a bondhu recalled recently, I would travel heavy and there would be some wide-eyed anticipation of what my bag would spew forth as the little gifts for everyone would pour out. The young ones wo

July 27, 2021: We all have promises to keep. With or without disasters and pandemics we make commitments. I do for sure, as do many others. These are explicit promises and when we are unable to keep those we turn to excuses. Phone calls to answer. The pandemic has tested us in this as well. Will I be able to do what I had said I would do? For work, for bondhus, for relationships. What happens if I fail? Do I hide behind excuses, drawing from the “mother of all excuses” – the pandemic. I could not deliver because of the pandemic. Or does one say, we will deliver in spite of the pandemic. I met people today who are in the latter category. In the energy of the conversation I realized I am surrounded by people who have accepted that our lives have been changed and whatever bubble we used to live in and want to retreat back into is now gone. And we planned, we talked, we know there will be a new wave of infections soon, and we worked with that in mind. Add in about 2 months to any schedule

July 26, 2021: There is rains on the way. There was a memorandum from the government last week promising some rain this week starting today. Amazingly, the government was correct. The rains came in the afternoon. I was elsewhere sharing my time with people in Florida and China as my bondhu munched on the infamous beguni with beet noon (impossible to explain to non-Bengalis, but it is a fritter made of thin slices of eggplant), especially on a rainy day. Time and place blended together as the rain pounded outside. I was delivered an under-performing vehicle in the morning. I was thinking of the arguments that usually follow with sub-par services. The pandemic has led to a surfeit of sanitizers that are sprayed in the rental car. It smells like a hospital in the car. But this is the product of the pandemic. A new sense of cleanliness. Everything must be washed. Several times. Some scientists somewhere seem to have suggested that the most recent variant can be transmitted by touch bringin

July 25, 2021: A day without transport. I did not have a car today. It was Devdas to the rescue. Even though it was a day of inactivity, the notion of not having a ready transport was disconcerting. Yet, I really had no reason to go out, to go any place that a camera and a computer could not take me; even then I felt the need for the absent transport. The leftovers of the yester months. The night lockdown has placed a strong sense of anxiety on the city. You can never be sure if the police will stop you or not. It is a benign form of Russian roulette. But it has changed the way of life. My cousin and my nephew stopped by in the evening. As we sat and reminisced, right around 8:45 in the evening, a restlessness begins. Is it time to leave, or is it worth the risk? Should we complete the story about the ancestors. Of the people who came before, whose stories will be lost unless the oral history is scribed. I did not know that my father was once a fugitive from the British police, having

July 24, 2021: The full moon looks the same. Looking at the full moon from the prop plane at night has a charm that is quite unparalleled. I have not been on a prop commercial plane for a long time. But the flight today was on such a plane. Armed with a negative COVID-19 report, we left in pounding rain early in the morning. I was wondering on the short flight, looking at Chilka lake below, how different people have handled the pandemic. The group I was meeting with seemed to have taken it in stride. Months of video meetings culminated in this single day meeting. There was a complete weekend lockdown at my destination. They said it is best not to stay the night at a hotel. In and out. Sanitized car. Double masked. A little afraid. Showering my hands with sanitizer. Sanitized guest room. Distanced meeting. But life goes on. The meetings were productive. An amazing lunch, served on banana leaves, completely safe. No one used the bio-degradable “plate” before and no one will again. Had th