Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Aparajita Sinha] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see her waddling towards me with a cup of tea and a brimming smile. We giggle at the conversations of an everyday clandestine love that meets at the Creek Row's bend. I laugh at your broken front tooth before realizing how broken things can be beautiful. I say, the Earth is trying to rectify the mistakes we made, never complaining as I complain how I am unable to hug the ones I love. You laugh, say, 'You never hug me, that doesn't mean you love me any less." My eyes open and I know, I shall make it through this because I made

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Syed Rawshid] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see that we are free from lockdowns... not just this one, but the ones that have consumed our life... of hate, of prejudices, of inequalities, of divisions and of occupations. One day, In Sha Allah ♥️ “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 name... please mail to me at mayankaustensoofi@gmail.com.

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Kulsoom Bano] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see myself back in time when I could hear the sound of traffic, the noise of children playing outside, and driving to my friend’s house to see her new kittens. This whole Corona episode has reminded me of the political strikes that Karachi witnessed in the mid-90s. But even back then, there was a life which I can’t feel anymore. I open my eyes and promise myself never to complain about the pace of life, and my hustling bustling city. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a brief diary starting with “I close my eyes in

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Anushree Ghosh] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see myself smiling, visualizing the normal. A ring on my doorbell from my boyfriend (now stuck in London), a message from my mother re-checking her flight details, an email from my boss confirming a (in person) meeting, the taste of the my cook’s hyper salty food. This quest for the normal makes me wonder: will I now value my humdrum life more, will I complain less about crowds and traffic jams, will I be kinder towards my domestic help, and at the next cab driver, will I be more patient with my aging parents? Is this pandemic our very own catharsis, to turn

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Mareva Zoli] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see the harshness of the times I'm living in. Not only the virus; it is just the compendium of something that life wants to teach to me. But I'm still try to figure it out. Last time I saw my dad was on October 21st, thanks to the picture on his obituary poster. Last time I saw the love of my life was... even if our relationship is over, life has a big sense of humor and put us into this quarantine together. Under the same roof. Under the same sky. I see the whole harshness with my eyes closed but also a new whole

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Candace Andrew] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see a dream. I wake up and keep my eyes semi-open till I brew myself my cup of black coffee. I stir it and take my first sip and sigh. It's my grounding in this isolation, the steady plank of normalcy in this unnaturally crowded home. The caffeine helps cope with the new inside - out urban normal, where the homes are crowded and the streets aren't. “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.

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Amira Yunis] I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona... and I see nothing... but those strange hazy forms... flashes of bursting light and color... becoming and destroying. I try to decipher these symbols dancing in the dark alleys behind the silence of closed eyes and isolated from the outer world. They are like carvings on the walls of a dark prehistoric cave, ancient, mysterious, prophetic figures. Messages from old civilizations, imprints from time that is lost. I can’t read them but they fascinate me. I want to write them on paper, paint them on canvas... anything that could give them meaning. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world