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Writer's pictureSarthak Dasgupta

The Corona Lockdown

Mine, so far, has gone something like this.


First was disbelief. Disbelief that it could affect me. Come so close. Get so real. For me.

When the Syrian infant had washed up on some shore, a few years ago, looking at the image, to counter the pain, the first thing that had risen in my mind was, ‘something like that won’t happen here’.

We have an inherent need to feel secure.

As much compassion we may feel for the strife-stricken, the mind first wants to secure the perimeter of the ‘self’. The ‘Self’ that it is used to calling the ‘Self’.

So whenever we see or hear of something devastating, something that involves pain, suffering, displacement, incarceration, injustice, the mind first audits if the danger can seep closer to home. And then after a few expressions on social media, ‘Life’ goes on. Because ‘Life’ has to go on. Meetings have to be attended. Deadlines have to be met. The pending lists of to-dos have to be ticked. Money has to be earned.

Then when the sectarian lynching began taking place on a regular basis, close to home, though feeble, the same voice inside assured me, ‘relax, you are safe.’ The same voice grew feebler and unsure, as I began noticing people whom I considered friends, come out in support of all the wrong that was going on around.

Hatred, violence, lies, deception, economic manipulations, general toxicity you name it, they all began manifesting right around me.

The Syrian infant had reached my shore!

The mind that foolishly limited the idea of ‘Self’ as 'me and them', had to be taught to see all, as a part of one whole. Like in a sinking ship, the only thing that keeps the inhabitants alive is hope, the collective conscience of all the individual ’Selves’ of this planet was perhaps hoping for a reset button.


The Syrian kid was a part of this ‘Self’. And the ones who made the same family jump into that U-boat to escape were also a part of the same ‘Self’. We are One. We have always been. But we forgot.


‘Fear’ I realise, was the only last weapon the Universe had for us. Because over time, we had ended up mastering ‘fear’ over all other things. Feel fear. Inflict fear. Succumb to fear. People who had mastered ‘Love’ had long been marginalised.


Paulo Freire, a Brazilian expert on education says: “The opposite of love is not, as we many times or almost always think, hatred, but the fear to love, and fear to love is the fear of being free.”Love softens you, fear hardens you.

So, take ‘Fear’ if you understand that, the Universe said.

We know what finally happened. We are today where we are. The King down to the tramp has been brought down on to one single line. Locked down. Pinned down to the most fundamental essentials. Our claws clipped. Our fangs dry with nothing to bite on.


The Universe is waiting for us to realise that it hasn’t, however, pared our wings. It wants us to reflect on who we really are. Humans. We were given the faculties of thought. Of Love. Of Art. Of discoveries. Of sharing. These had become subservient to the economics of ‘more’. People were unhappy hoarding, yet no one could individually stop the ball from rolling.


The ball has momentarily stopped rolling. A tiny, microscopic inconspicuous little protein has brought the ball to a standstill. It has been done for us to spread the unclipped, cramped, unused wings and take a flight inside of us. To recognise who we really are. To explore our intensely beautiful existence as a unified 'One'.

I am still alive.

I don’t know what is in store. I don’t know the length of the leash I am on. Hence every moment is vital to understand and appreciate everything that has been given to me. I am so grateful to be made aware of the beauty around me, which I had lately been ignoring.


Birds sing even in the cities, I realise. Today I notice the eyes of the squirrels in my verandah. Today I can also hear the buzz of a distant bee…

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