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My Mango tree

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Coffee and something more…

Coffee and something more…

Photo by Chevanon Photography on Pexels.com A Boy’s POV A girl is sitting at the window of the coffee shop I frequently go to. She has thick black hair, almond eyes that are sparkling, and pink lips. For some reason, I can’t take my eyes off her as I walk towards the coffee shop. Her entire demeanour is calm and she seems to be writing something in her book. Her slender fingers curl…

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The Corona Virus Point of View

The Corona Virus Point of View

Have you ever wondered what the corona virus thinks as it attacks a body? I have always thought about this, even as a kid whenever I fell ill I would always imagine a war taking place in my body with the germs infecting me. I would give my white blood cells powerful suits and armour just like in the cartoon the centurions and think they would probably say “power extreme” before battling the…

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The COVID – 19 Diary

The COVID – 19 Diary

As the world faced the pandemic known as COVID-19 and underwent lockdowns; I finally had to embark on a hikikomori journey. A hikikomori is a Japanese term for a shut in and I had to explore my life as an Indian shut in after my recent diagnosis of COVID 19. Of course this journey came with a few differences with an actual Japanese shut in. For starters their parents certainly didn’t go paranoid…

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The story of my writing

The story of my writing

I would like to tell a story about my writing journey or what I feel is a journey, I will leave it up to  the reader to decide whether one would call it a journey or not. Being a student, especially an Indian one where the number of lines we write on our exam answer sheets make up our grades and not the content, one can safely say this is the first introductory course to creative writing…

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Killing it the hikikomori way: Indian Version

Killing it the hikikomori way: Indian Version

You maybe all wondering what is hikikomori after reading the title. Well let’s get that out of the way first before diving into anything else. Hikikomori is a Japanese term for a shut in. In japan many young adults and teenagers for reasons known only to them at a certain point stop coming out of their rooms. Instead they start living their lives in the 4 confines of their room and detest social…

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About Me

I started this blog to spread humour and joy from everyday scenarios. Relatable day to day life becomes humorous and cheerful and something people can relate to. My blogs can be seen as a way to find humour in ordinary situations thereby making ordinary life to extraordinary.

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Private blogging, it’s a vibe. But some innermost thoughts deserve to be just that: inner. Very, very inner. Now, imagine the perfect complementary app to this one (hellsite). With absolute encryption (for superior secrecy levels), an allowance of thirty photos per entry (for all the moments), even email and text integration (text yourself whenever you feel like it). Yeah, that’s what this is:

Day One (not a hellsite) has joined our family at Automattic. That means Day One (not a hellsite) has joined your family, Tumblr. And that means the universe is telling you to try journaling.

There’s no such thing as cringe in a private journal; it’s all just ~intimacy~. And checking in with yourself in a solo space that looks nice and feels nice. With zero chance of your secrets, the Story of You, or your WIPs reaching other readers unless, or until, you want them to. (No, really. It’s all utterly encrypted.)

Try it out, and never accidentally post something wildly personal on main again. (You’re free to keep doing it on purpose here, though.)

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Killing it the hikikomori way: Indian Version

You maybe all wondering what is hikikomori after reading the title. Well let’s get that out of the way first before diving into anything else. Hikikomori is a Japanese term for a shut in. In japan many young adults and teenagers for reasons known only to them at a certain point stop coming out of their rooms. Instead they start living their lives in the 4 confines of their room and detest social interaction. Often their parents will deliver food and other resources to their rooms and they eke out a living by shutting themselves in the room.

Now this was a whole new concept to me when I first heard about it. I was confounded by it and found myself thinking, “Is this even possible?” Then invariably my brain started to draw parallels with whether it is possible in India. Well for starters when an Indian teenager decides to shut himself in the room all day will find a joke played on him as he will realise he doesn’t have a room of his own to shut himself in. Having your own room is a basic requirement! But alas Indian parents in their infinite wisdom contend their children as an extended property hence what he owns, they actually own. So, rule 1 broken. Let’s say the parents decide to give a room to their ward and now he has a room to shut himself in, they will definitely be no bathroom attached and no, his mom won’t keep coming to him to get him water, food, etc. So, at 1 point he has to get out of the room depending on how long he can hold it in. It literally becomes the battle of the wills. Second if the mother starts cooking and delicious aroma wafts throughout the house and envelopes the house at some point he must come out to eat. And that means having lunch/dinner/breakfast in front of the TV watching the family’s favourite soap. Anyway no Indian teenage kid will have a TV in his room. Indian parents are too smart for that. Ours is a culture of cutting the TV cable during exam time, hence buying a TV exclusively for their child is a bit too much. Being a TV cable operator in India during an exam season is a dangerous time indeed. So food is always with family and no food if you don’t come to the living room. So, the rule 2 is broken. Besides why would anyone want to give up watching Indians soaps. Now you may say what about the internet? Students have their own laptop you know, and it is school sanctioned. And to that I laugh and say Indian parents control the modem. There you have it, the parents will keep the modem in a common room like the living room and operate it. So good luck if you think you can surf the net after bedtime. They are not stupid to have an exclusive modem for their kid in his room. That modem is communal just like the TV, belongs to the entire family.

So, you see by drawing parallels like these I concluded that there were no shut ins possible in India until…

COVID-19

This year I was diagnosed with COVID 19. I was feeling feverish, had slight cold and cough and the fatigue was too much to bear when I decided to go to the doctor. He diagnosed me with COVID but after I take a HR CT of the thorax to confirm his diagnosis. So, the first thing I did when I got the diagnosis was to write my own obituary in my head. Seriously, that was my first reaction. Could I get any dumber? Then we went to the diagnostic centre got my HR CT done and the doctor their informed it was very - very mild and in the starting stage. Nothing to worry. Cool. Obituary deleted. That was my second reaction. I don’t know if COVID affects the brain or not but my IQ was certainly dropping.

Then my doctor prescribed me medicines and vitamins to take and told me to stay at home and not go out. My parents took it to another level and quarantined me to the room. And guess what! I have a room of my own with an attached bathroom, with a modem in my room, with all the makings of a hikikomori. Guess my parents trust me a lot or it has more to do with the fact that I am not a teenager anymore and exam season is just like any other season to us. Miss those days.

So, my quarantine began, I never thought in my life I would become an Indian version of the ‘shut in’. My mom delivers all the food and water to my room, first time an Indian mom has done that. But in this case my mom took it a step further, she stands outside the room wearing 2 masks, a face shield, and rubber gloves and carries food on a paper plate and water in a plastic bottle. She doesn’t dare to make eye contact with me as if COVID would spread by looking at the person. First time in Indian history Indian parents refused to make eye contact with their kids, usually they would be the dons bossing their kids around, looking them in the eye and daring their kids to rebel against them. Man, COVID made this a level playing field. But in all fairness my parents are doing the best they can and I am trying to do my best in quarantine, hoping we all emerge out of this stronger and more resilient.

I would like to end by saying COVID is a disease that can be beaten especially if it is in the starting stage, so don’t lose hope and ignore the negative news regarding it. Take care of yourself and your mental health. I hope my experience in this story brought out some smiles and a few laughs in my readers.

[lifeinslices]

The COVID – 19 Diary

As the world faced the pandemic known as COVID-19 and underwent lockdowns; I finally had to embark on a hikikomori journey. A hikikomori is a Japanese term for a shut in and I had to explore my life as an Indian shut in after my recent diagnosis of COVID 19.

Of course this journey came with a few differences with an actual Japanese shut in. For starters their parents certainly didn’t go paranoid and started disinfecting everything with Dettol. I was quarantined to my room and my mom wore a mask and face shield whenever she delivered food to my room. I am pretty sure the hikikomoris had food served by their parents the normal way and encouraged communication of any kind. I had the misfortune of looking at my mother in the eye when she came to deliver food to me. All hell broke loose and I was admonished severely. My mom added her own symptom to the already long list of coronavirus symptoms; spreads through making eye contact.

Dettol the disinfectant produced by Reckitt is the only thriving commodity in these times. In my house where it was used sparsely and when necessary, started to flow like water. My parents in their crazy ways started adding this thing to everything and anything related to cleaning. It was like if the cleaning water is not sanctified by Dettol then it was worthless, never mind the 100+ floor cleaning liquids already present in it. So, the cleaning ritual went something like this; first spray everything with sanitiser, my parents went and bought a 10 litre can of sanitiser. The only people to buy it. The only person to sell them thanked his stars for making the decision to store such a can in his shop in the first place. After overdosing everything with sanitiser until it was dripping wet, take a clean washed cloth to wipe it. Then after wiping, immediately discard the cloth. They would have actually incinerated the cloth with fire but that would alarm the neighbours so they didn’t do it. I am pretty sure their hands were itching to do, and for the first time in my life I was thankful we had neighbours to keep them in check. Then after wiping everything sanctify it with the one and only Dettol. Dettol still continues to do roaring business in our house. Pour litres of Dettol on the furniture, flat surfaces, glass, etc. and then take a clean cloth to wipe everything again. Then discard the cloth immediately without making eye contact with the cloth. Then add Dettol again to the floor cleaning water along with other liquids and mop the entire house. Once sanitiser spray bottles became empty they would fill it with Dettol and the sanctification process would continue.

Once I came out of my quarantine and my doctor said I could resume normal life with my family, my parents took it on themselves to show me what discrimination is all about. Discrimination you say? Well let me explain. Despite me getting the green certificate from the doctor my parents took it on themselves to be extra cautious. So, in case I touched anything like switch off a light my father would magically appear donned with mask and gloves, sanitiser in 1 hand, cloth in the other and would wipe the switch. Then my mother would come with a similar attire and sanctify the switch with Dettol. Then she would go a step further and tell me quiet strictly not to touch anything and keep my hands to myself. If I happened to touch anything in the kitchen related to cooking as I once did, the utensils were left out in the sink behind our house for many days before being thoroughly washed and sterilised in hot water.

The fruits in my house were also not spared. Also, for the first time I got to know how cooked fruits taste. Never in my life had I eaten cooked fruits, they were always consumed fresh without any cooking process done to them. My mom after washing the fruits thoroughly started to pour hot boiling water on all the fruits especially bananas turning them black before consuming them. Never mind they looked more poisonous than sterilised at this point. Vegetables too had to undergo the same indignity before meeting their life purpose. We started to own so many cleaning items that we could make our own Tik Tok showcasing them just like those prom Tik Tok videos, where the girl runs her hand through different prom dresses and when they say stop she has to wear the dress on which her hand lands. We could do the same the only difference would be my hand would land on a mop from an array of mops and cleaning liquids I didn’t know were even manufactured. Make in India indeed!

My parents seem to evolve as the virus mutates when they come up with new ideas to clean the house, each new idea more crazy than the last as the pandemic rages on. At this point I think whether the virus will even have the courage to enter our house or to put up with the hassles my parents will create for it. They seem like armed soldiers ready to enter the battlefield the only difference they will be armed with face masks, face shields, gloves, mops, sanitizers and of course the holy Dettol.