Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Munazah] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see myself in front of the serene Dal Lake, on one fine sunny day, with its ultramarine blue water, and lofty mountains overlooking us like an old grandfather. I look at the bright yellow shikaras and wonder why I never rode them, maybe because I was too scared of how frail and wobbly they looked. Last time I saw Dal, it was a waning winter afternoon, white fog blanketing blue of sky and water, and a shikara floating lifelessly. After two years of metro-paced life in Delhi, a Shikara ride is what my tired heart aches for. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Maureen Pawar] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see myself without you. Heartbroken and incomplete. I miss your warmth against my skin, your breath in my ears, your deep brown sparkling eyes that always made me think of the universe and had the supernatural power to melt my heart, every time you looked at me. The same heart, now filled with gratitude and grief for mothering and losing a beautiful child like you. Tears rolling down are wiped instantly. Startled, I open my eyes, finding you licking my cheeks, sniffing my tears with your cold wet nose. My little four legged ball of fur in my arms. Relieved. I smile.

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Yangchen D] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see birds of different feathers flitting from tree to tree, carrying news of the two legged animals now sitting in their balconies and talking about how sweet the bird songs sound and how they could have ever missed it. I see them perched on top of pine trees, puffing their lungs out, performing their ballads and fables for the finally quiet and adoring crowd. I see the leaves rustle, setting the tone and melody. I see the prayer flags flapping, readying to send the music over Kanchendzonga's peaks... into the home of a thousand loved ones waiting, a thousand more deities. I

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Martina Gerotto] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see the dark sky of these nights. I think it's not that difficult to disappear from this world. It is perhaps for this reason that for all these years I have done nothing but develop life strategies, to live intensely, to do well the things that had to be done, to follow the rules, to feed that soul that one day should replace my body in this life. Perhaps.... “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a brief diary starting with “I close my eyes in my self-isolation from Corona... and I see...” Not more

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Ammar Rangoonwala] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see a faint fever of realization, the world of house with me inside and you outside and the world of street with you inside and me outside, two worlds in polarity, reconciling. wandering inwardly from semblance, mundane, neither could I choose but to dwell in the liminal times and space, like a dervish sitting by the mere doorway. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a brief diary starting with “I close my eyes in my self-isolation from Corona... and I see...” Not more than 100 words. With a horizontal-sized selfie, along with your city

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Arif Reshi] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see some men in white space suit with knack pack bleach spray cylinders fumigating the floor of the New Block of my college in Kulgam, Kashmir. There are some cops in white hazmat uniform filling their barrel holes with toilet papers. “It is a co-ed institution”, says a professor, “What are you doing here?” “What are YOU doing here”, one of the gunmen responds angrily, “It is Covid Quarantine”.

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Ritika Parwal] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see my 5 year old son, Daksh… wondering what he must be doing this very moment and if this is all too overwhelming for him. I close my eyes and imagine him with me, spending all these moments together, enjoying our isolation. I pray for this to get over soon and for us to evolve into better human beings. The biggest tragedy will be if we come out of it unchanged. I close my eyes and thank God for all the privileges, yet feel a deep void and pray for Daksh to be fine. END “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Susanne Becker] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see a guy, wearing a black tutu. He screams. His body too small to hold his fear. On the almost empty street, he runs as fast as lightning, tries to catch the car in front of him. All the while screaming bloody hell. I see my fingertips touching the L the O the V the E. As long as people don't understand to stay away from each other. What it means, when they do. The streets are not empty. They are too empty for the guy in the black tutu. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a brief diary

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Mukul S. Kareya] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see the first human civilization on Earth. I want to tell them about their precarious decisions. I hesitate, hoping man’s story will be told. I find myself lying on the ground. The virus spared none of us, coaxing it's way in every human. The infection grew devouring every human, we had it coming. I have a subdued thought if Earth will miss us. I open my eyes thinking nature has the best mechanism for solving any problem. Billy Joel's we didn't start the fire plays in background. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a