The New Normal

Over a month since I sequestered myself from the outside world and not only have I survived, it’s my new normal.

I’m not yet ready to exit my cocoon and face the outside world. This experience has given me a taste of myself. I’m ok being me.

I’ve also learnt my dislike of the ‘orangeman’ is not an aberration. Every day I tune in to the daily comedy central show at 5.30 pm, just to emphasize the man is worth my total and complete aversion. Such a contrast from my 11.30 am love affair with Andy who is far from perfect but has sure redeemed himself. He is comfortable showing his vulnerable side while his esteemed boss is horror struck about displaying his masked persona to world leaders, dictators and kings. Am I missing something? Is Air Force One taking off every night for brainstorming midnight meetings we don’t know about? Is there a plan to save the world? Is salvation around the corner? He keeps saying it’s going to be great and all will be well soon. Should I let out my breath? I thought the shits getting real.

A glance outside shows another refrigerated truck has joined the one from last week. And every morning a third one appears to spirit away extra bodies. My internet browsing reveals unclaimed corpses are being piled in mass graves at the city limits. The 7pm cheers every evening, has taken on more significance. Without fail, my neighbours and I join the ambulance and fire truck sirens with our shouts, claps, waves, flags and whistles. Its these frontline warriors fighting to keep the pandemic at bay. Who needs nuclear weapons, guns, fighter jets? This is our new normal.

I can’t be more proactive, but my bank account chipped in. Whether in India or New York, it’s contributing towards funds for the essential ones. Hurrah to the folks organizing these much needed outlets. They act as a balm for my guilty ‘quarantined’ mind.

Meanwhile, as I hunker and adhere to the stay at home mandate, I’ve begun focussing on personal milestones. First and foremost, after thirty two days of enjoying my solitude, I don’t miss the outdoors. The 2cms of fresh air my windows allow has kept me breathing and alert. My weak lungs are satisfied. Friends urge me to go for a walk, go for groceries, exercise my limbs. But I refuse. I had wheels for feet. Instead, I’m now in a self-competition, trying to set a record of the old me vs the new. How long will I hold out? From social queen, I’ve become social distancing queen, reveling in my self-imposed, self-quarantine. No more staining my lips, elongating my ear lobes or breaking my neck with long, heavy dangly jewels made of any and every material possible. The au naturel look is now my new normal.

Despite the innumerable person to person internet meet ups with friends and family, I haven’t succumbed to vanity. Well, I did use lipstick once and wear earrings twice. And next week we’ve decided to dress up and enjoy a virtual dinner, to celebrate a friend’s milestone birthday. I think Zoom is most flattering. Facetime and WhatsApp video are too up close and personal. They reveal flaws. Is my skin really so dry? I plaster on cream and add a blob of Vaseline for good measure. And are those minute hairs in my nostrils? Did anyone notice the few long ones on my chin? I should tweeze before the next call. Still haven’t. Meanwhile the hair on my head refuses to behave. Maybe it’s the Indian summer setting of my heater. I might have to begin combing my tresses now.

I’ve always been trigger happy and social media obsessed so I surreptitiously take pictures during my calls. Some people cotton on to the clicks and forbid me from posting pics. Others threaten me with angry texts later until I take down their offending pictures. I’ve never worried about how I’m portrayed and continue to maintain, the camera never lies. I’m told its the angle….it is as it is.

And talking about revealing truths, this new way of communicating has stripped the veneer by shining the spotlight on humanity’s biggest flaw. Judgement.

Now I know X’s house is a reflection of her good taste. On the other hand Y needs to junk that painting in the background. Z’s house is way bigger than she claimed. Gosh, is that what M looks like without make-up? Celebrity A should have gone into hibernation with her personal stylist. Mr. B is so good with his kids. He’s the cutest dad ever. Kudos for dressing up Ms K. Your fan base will remain eternally loyal. Madame D that oversized sweatshirt and rumpled couch will not get you brownie points. Meanwhile suited or shirtless, drool worthy G will always have my adulation. Comedy show host J has a great collection of books. P is a neat freak like me. I try to keep my online space decluttered though people have commented on the booze collection, which unfortunately is fast depleting. Its a blessing knowing liquor stores are essential services. Thanks to my obsessive compulsiveness, I vacuum, mop and dust as if ‘real’ people are visiting. Nothing new here, that’s my normal.

But other kind of change is imminent. On WhatsApp and Facebook, Zoom and Emails, the one topic of discussion is everyone’s behaviour going forward? Will travel be a thing of the past? What about offices and retreats? And once people return, will they be more casual? After all, thanks to online meetings, people have been seen at their most vulnerable. One lady even took a pee in the middle of hers and the whole world saw that one.

Peloton sent me a reminder. March 17th was the last time I climbed on their bike. My building gym shut on the 18th. Since then it’s Yoga and Thera bands at my new gym, Chez Moi. Between a collapsed disc, bunions on my feet, aching hips, stiff neck and other joint ailments, I can’t keep up with online fitness regimes. I’ve assumed the mantle of personal trainer and become my own tormentor. 1, 2 , 3, 4….you can do it. Don’t give up. One more set. Sit up straight. Don’t bend your knees. The litany rings in my head. Maybe a new career awaits my post corona life. No gym. Will that be a new normal?

The questions remain. Am I ready? To join the flood of people fighting for a seat on the Q train or trudging past jostling Times Square tourists as I head to the office? To hug my friends and shake the hands of strangers? Will I be as cavalier about sharing drinks or touching railings? Will I book a flight and fly into the vast unknown or will the wheels on my feet be forever jammed? Will I tear my bucket list into tiny shreds and watch my dreams float away? Will I listen to my heart more? Will I reach out to the ones I care more than ever before? Will I nurture the Earth more? Will I strive to ensure no one goes homeless or hungry anymore? The virus was a leveler and did not discriminate. Will I learn that lesson?

After all, there is now a new normal.