Two counts of COVID within three months. I’m forced to wonder what fearlessness really looks like now.
For JD It’s coming on an year since our last conversation. A week when we were negotiating our definitions of intimacy, proximity, boundaries & identity. Sadly, I don’t even have the records of that any more. My phone crashed abruptly, last month. This is the same phone that you helped…
Flowers & an endless supply of pens for you, Jaideep Khare. Written for an @alphabetsambar writing exercise on Clubhouse.
For some months now, Clubhouse has been my new social media toy. It has also been my solace, my refuge during the soul-shattering COVID-19 second wave. I’ve made friendships of a very different kind from any I’ve had before (even counting the pioneering days of chatrooms, blogs & Twitter). Hearing people’s voices through the dark desolation of a pandemic and having those voices be what carry you into choosing to wake up every day – this cannot be explained to somebody who hasn’t experienced it. This piece was written for a theme set by my steadiest co-host, Tareque Laskar – Better Days.
The odd thing is that love is a lonely, lonely experience but grief is a communal one.
Life is a cycle ride. You can twist that metaphor so many ways. You never really forget how to, even if you check out of actively doing it for a bit. It’s about balance. It’s when you stop thinking about it & just do it. Would death be when you…
There was a death. And I watched who was allowed to grieve and who was required to show strength. It made me ponder masculinity.