What if.......

What if Covid hadn’t struck 

Far away on the horizon, a golden yellow orb rose slowly towards the dark violet, almost deep purple skies. I could see a smaller one trying to keep pace, but with difficulty. And then suddenly, many followed. One after another, they ascended like multitudes of rising stars, each one blessed and happy. Each one had a fire within, and an aura of peace and tranquility without. They seemed to be emanating from the land, but as far as eye could see, there was no one. I watched, fascinated. 

Ko Myo my cousin, was with me, watching me. “They are lamps, lit and released”, he said softly. It was November 2020, and I was in Myanmar. I seemed to remember that I had travelled here from Singapore. My mother’s family was so glad to welcome me. The house looked just like it had when I used to come here as a child. The people living in the house had changed though, or rather, grown up; some gone away. But then isn’t that the way of the world? Don’t we all do?

Ko Myo’s eyes shone with pride and love for his country and heritage as he told me all about Tazungdaing festival marking the end of rains. “This festival which is always celebrated on the full moon day of the eighth month in Myanmar calendar, also has a tradition of weaving robes and giving them away to monks”, he said. “Legend has it that Buddha’s mother Maya who had already died and been reborn in Tavatimsa heaven, divined that Buddha would soon renounce the world, so she had spent the night weaving yellow robes for him to wear.” I remember having heard that before. Déjà vu. I could see my grandmother with her silver-grey hair braided with a red ribbon, telling me the same stories. Probably, she told Ko Myo too.

The sparkling festival of Thadingyut celebrated on a full moon day in October, marking the end of Buddhist Lent had always fascinated me; and now, this time over, Tazungdaing was like a magic spell, especially the ritual of lighting lamps and releasing them skywards. It was like an anti-depressant for me- an escape route, a kind of path to detachment. Release. Let go. Watching the lamps go, I could sense a strange kind of peace settling in, and making me understand that all else was transitory; the only three universal truths being:

Everything in life is always everchanging and impermanent.

So a life based on possessing things or persons doesn’t make you happy.

There is no eternal unchanging soul; self is just a collection of changing characteristics or attributes.

I understand therefore, that I am on the path to identifying myself with the universe, dispelling permanence. Whenever I die, my energy passes into another form. Seeking the escape from Samsara. Seeking Nirvana. One step closer if I have followed the Eight-fold path. 

I was in Ngapali, on the beach, witnessing magic. The quietly elegant white beach on the Western Coast of Myanmar whispered lovingly and played sensual games with the receding tide, while I avidly took in the vibes from the lanterns on a velvety sky. As if he could read my mind, my cousin got me some lanterns. And as I interpreted the sand patterns in the pristine waters and sent up a lantern or two, I was thinking of Gautama Buddha and his mom weaving robes for him.

I woke up with a start when the alarm rang on my handphone; I had been dreaming! My innermost wish of revisiting Myanmar after all these years had subconsciously materialized, albeit in slumber. Such a vivid dream; I remembered every bit. I drank some water from the thermos and saw the mask and gloves were still there on the bedside table. The camphor burners were running low, a sign that the rosy, illuminating dawn had broken. I could see the masked morning walkers from my window. Back to reality! What a life! Another day of social distancing. Sigh! 

What if Covid 19 had not happened! I sat on the window ledge of my tastefully done and very hospitable prison, my home, and thought…

I could have really gone to Taunggyi for Tazungdaing. Or even Ngapali.

I could have actually gone to Bangkok for Loy Krathong. I just loved to release the turtles in the Chao Phraya and watch them swim away. The krathongs at dusk look unbelievably celestial.

My back was packing up, so maybe I could have gone for some relaxing spa treatment and therapy while in Thailand, and taken my mother with me, just so that I could work on her and explain what Mara, my girlfriend, meant to me.

Delhi beckoned; it always was so irresistible in the winters. I could have gone there. The weddings there always left me wanting more!

Or to the Alps, for a fabulous ski adventure, and thereafter to London to spend time with my sister, my soulmate. And enjoy a white Christmas if lucky.

We were looking forward to Olympics in Tokyo and a busy tourist season in Asia. But Covid 19 came along and then you know what happened!

I could have been teaching at school in a classroom, as usual. My students have been writing in, wondering when we can meet. I think they miss me. I miss them too.

I even wanted to visit the doctor for a routine annual checkup – I am over 30 years of age, you see.

It is fair that I give you a background now. About myself. Just before March 2020, my family had introduced me to a suitable boy and hoped we would fall in love and marry soon. I was just about summoning the courage to tell them I already had Mara who would marry me because she loved me, when Covid 19 took control of our lives, and I couldn’t. All their well laid plans were put on hold; and my anxiety temporarily put to rest. I could play Nametests on my laptop when I wanted to hear nice things about myself, and play Scrabble when feeling all agog and attentive, like a dictionary!

But had Covid 19 not happened, I wouldn’t have had this luxury! Perhaps I would have incurred the wrath of the family for my affairs of the heart. Because me, a girl, going on a honeymoon with Mara, another girl, was not so acceptable, though entirely legal and fashionable. So thank God Covid 19 happened. All explanations and wrath got pushed for later.

Suffice to say, if my mother had had her way, I would have gotten married in June and gone on a honeymoon- with a boy! 

I got off the ledge and walked out on the patio. The daily papers were a stack of dismal broadsheets, full of depressing facts and figures. “We should stop buying newspapers”, I said to my mother. My father cleared his throat noisily and made his displeasure known. Covid or no Covid, he had to have his daily dose of half a dozen newspapers.

Had Covid 19 not happened, maybe the economic activity would not have suffered to such an extent that it hurt when the poor became poorer and the rich stopped spending. With the advent of Covid 19, theories of economics with their ceteris paribus assumptions started defying reality and called for a relook by the experts in the domain. Because nothing really was the same anymore! Certainly, the painstakingly crafted growth and development plans of the world did not deserve this burial? A mere virus? Eh? 

The world would have gone on living recklessly. The glaring disparities in wealth and income and the false sense of well-being would have continued. I would not have believed if someone had told me in February 2020 that a crown shaped virus will rule mercilessly and cause everything to go haywire. To my utter amazement, just two months later, I saw the virus merrily blighting the human race. I saw the confusion and the alarm and realized the world had blinked. If only to say, “Take care. Stay at home.”

I would never have learnt to make bread otherwise. Yes, right! The daily bread that we eat with butter and jam? When Covid 19 struck, we learnt to stay at home. Cooking at home got back in fashion. The videos on food and cooking began receiving record hits. You only had to type bread, and at least 200 or more bread recipes were visible! I used to cook once a week when Covid 19 hadn’t arrived! Now I cook morning and evening.

When under lockdown, I began reading James Joyce with a vengeance- downloaded over 5000 pages of the Complete Works of James Joyce on my Kindle reader and immersed myself in his forbidden thoughts and philosophies. Had Covid 19 not happened, I would never have had known why he lapsed from Catholicism; or why his work Ulysses has often been called a summary of the entire Modernist movement. And all about his so-called pernicious influences, or graphic descriptions of people and characters in Dublin in his novels. Even his famous letters to Nora, his muse for 27 years and then later his wife, which made him sound so gutsy, unique and worthy of criticism. His recognition in the US as one of the most influential writers of the 20th Century seems to me now, a well-deserved acclaim.

Working from home would never have proved so efficient had Covid 19 not happened. The ostentatious office premises seem inconsequential now; at least for the time being. 

Allow me to say that even if Covid 19 had not happened, what had to happen would have happened. Like environmental degradation, violence, political proliferation, crime…the virus was simply an addition to the long list. Over the months, it has proved to be a catalyst for some phenomena like economic slowdown and the ensuing evils. The incompetence and the unpreparedness of the world couldn’t have been gauged without this force majeure.

The media focus also would have been different, I am sure. There is so much happening around the world- elections, invasions, secessions, border disputes, refugee problems, war!  Talking about the woes of the alarming political, economic and social environments, geo- political disappointments, terrorism, drugs, mafia, etc. would have excited media though they would still have missed out on the ‘real discussion on environment and economy’. As always.

Last but not least, but for Covid 19, we would not have witnessed this historic event, that made my childhood fears come alive. As children, we used to read fairy tales and there was a story that my grandma would tell us about a kingdom which was troubled by a cruel ogre. The ogre would come at night and devour whoever he saw. So all the people of the kingdom would stay home with locked doors and shuttered windows. Even the king could not do anything about it. Doesn’t this sound familiar today as well? If Covid had not happened, I wouldn’t have known how the people of that kingdom felt.

On a parting note, I still have a story to tell my grandchildren. A real, real one, laced with “what had to happen, happened.” Something which I could not have imagined, if Covid 19 hadn’t happened.