When the Covid-19 pandemic hit, and we were all told to stay in, so that nice, old ladies don't become ill and die a horrible death, a lot of people started whining. What about our haircuts? My bunny needs a trim. Their animal pet rabbit they meant. My stomach is getting flabby, some said. Nancy, you were already fat, the lockdown just gave you an excuse. If you hadn't gone to the gym for months before the pandemic, now is not the time to protest about being unable to. Hence, I shall give you some nice recommendations to binge watch, that I'm sure you all will adore. So you guys can sit that beautiful ass down, and relax instead of worrying about the outside. Shall we dive in?
When my brother was little and thought he was in trouble, he would play Possum. He would roll around, drop to the floor and close his eyes. It worked the first few times, then mum got annoyed super fast.
I look outside my window at the decapitated buildings. The smell of sulphur wars with the smell of grit and crushed roses from the nearest road shop, because this is the ''city of flowers''. I see women draped in shawls, faces closed to the world. I see poverty, but I also see ambition and the overwhelming need to survive of the poor, in a world where they are unwelcome. I see what could have been me. We migrated to Boston, when I turned 12. I grew up surrounded by soaring buildings, hating the color of my skin, because it made me an outsider. But here, between these buildings, I was one of them. Almost. What set Americans, from the people of my parents, was there need to be better than they were before. They worked hard, and kept to their business.
Did you know, the human brain has the capacity to generate 23 watts of power when awake? That of the total blood and oxygen, the brain gets only 20% of it? These are all facts, but somehow it was hard to comprehend how it can relate to Mai’s death. You say goodbye, you kiss them on the forehead and then they
leave. You say prayers on their funeral, you tell them you love them and you believe they are at peace, wherever they are. Sometimes, if you’re lucky you see acceptance and peace in their gaze when they leave, in my case I saw nothing. I just heard words, ‘’it will be okay’’, ‘’don’t forget to take care of yourself,’’ that seemed to bounce off my skull. I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye. They weren’t going to let me near her. The most I will get will be a thin voice on the phone, raspy from disuse, miles away while she dies in Lahore.
Tuning out the world, while I humn silently to the Beetles on my playlist, I'm suddenly jarred awake from my reverie when my sister chucks a pillow at my head.
Curled up on the couch and mindlessly scrolling through the hundred of pages of media that are thrown at us, must be boring. The only alternatives seems to be cleaning the house up, that's starting to look like a hovel or studying. Both the most boring tasks of the century.