Lockdown

What would a year-long lockdown do to a fellow who has used to spend half of his lifetime on the road? Whose essence was to lead a trouble-free double life of Dr Jackyll and Mr Hyde, sans horrible crimes of the latter?

I came to know. First few months were a sort of a game. A sort of a challenge — oh, we’re locked down, cannot travel, what are you going to do, huh?

Challenge accepted, I learned to walk from one of my places to the other, taking advantage of having two of them, conveniently located about two and a half miles apart. A nice stroll along the river. And it was spring, so fresh air and gentle sun were a regular bonus to me walking.

Then the summer came and went. I left one of the places permanently and settled in a house large enough to keep me occupied for years to come. Few visits abroad made the illusion of normalcy and freedom almost perfect. Yet I was deceived.

The autumn was dark and rainy — with one particularly bleak shivery morning I can never forget. It was numbing; numbing more than anything I’ve been through before. And it still lingers.

Where was I? Oh yeah, lockdown. It started hurting, it’s been a bit too much, nauseating, obnoxious.

Went to the mountains for a few days. Unplugging and seeing the nature showing off with three different seasons within a span of a long weekend was rejuvenating. At least for a moment.

Winter? Well — it’s been a long cold lonely winter as somebody put it a few decades ago. Haven’t seen that much snow in over twenty years. But I didn’t have to clean the windshield or unfreeze the car. It just sat quietly in a garage, waiting for its moment which failed to come. I haven’t traveled for four months.

A new spring is coming. And maybe it’s all coming to a close. It’s a kind of solace I live with, too tired and longing for times that are possibly never to return in the same way, form or shape as before. A little more complexity for lives of commoners seems inevitable.

And here I am, a year later, desperately hoping for this nightmare to end, indifferent to few more regulations, accepting the new normal as it unfolds. I cherish the family. I cherish each ride I take. I cherish each place I visit. For I learned the hard way what I knew but never fully realized — that nothing can be taken for granted.

Notably freedom and life.