A few days ago, my phone’s dye pack exploded, and I’ve basically been going through isolation without it. I still have WhatsApp web just barely, and my iPad does ease the misery but honestly it feels really weird not having the world at my fingertips. Even now as I sit at my laptop typing away, the memories locked away in my phone unable to be accessed are soul crushing.
I’ve started to carry a notebook around whenever I go out, I used to take notes on my phone, little reminders of ideas I wasn’t clear minded enough to conceptualize. But now I carry my diary and rather than just taking notes I write it out completely. It’s become quite an escape. It reminds me of the days I used to sit at a dhabba with a diary and be able to think, away from the people, away from the distractions. After a few years I feel at peace in those moments at least.
Isolation has been tough; on everyone I suppose. Not having easy access to food, not having certainty in whether they’ll kick us out of the dorms or not, it’s all a bit troubling. But for me at least, there are a few positives. Not having a phone means I can completely minimize communication with people I really don’t want to bother with. On top of that, nature’s blooming. Yesterday I saw more birds in one spot than I have in the entire city, probably because we were feeding them fries (not sure it was the best idea).
There is clarity in isolation, clarity in solitude. Albeit too much at times, but the worlds on pause and there really is no better time to just breathe. I guess that’s just one positive I take from all this shit. To be honest, I didn’t just want to talk about quarantine and Covid. I wanted to talk about being isolated even within your own mind. That feeling of seclusion, loneliness maybe. I’m sure everyone knows it, that feeling that even in a group of friends, you’re lost in your own mind, not present but not really lost either.
I think I found myself in self-isolation and lost myself in it too. Years ago, even months ago; I discovered what little I could of myself from introspection. Now this self-isolation, this forced one; has me lost, confused, overthinking and to be frank just fucking myself up. Recently I told my friend jokingly that if Covid doesn’t kill you, the isolation will take the life out of you. I feel like there is a slight truth to that humour. I can’t really remember the days before isolation, how life was, ordering cajun, the messages “bro ciggie peenay chalo”. It’s all gone.
I’m not sure when this will all end, but I guess all one can do is take advantage of this time, by figuring something out. I really don’t know what.
A Sane Undertaking 