Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Priya Jain] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see myself walking in a wide open space, with a brilliant sunset in front of me. Fluffy clouds scattered across the sky which is shot in hues of pink and orange and becoming deeper. It is stunning. I see the vastness and majesty of nature and think how tiny we are. Tiny specs in space and the cosmos. I think of our privilege (and our greed) and I also think of the love and kindness of friends, family and strangers. I am grateful. My heart smiles. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a brief diary

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Avantika Seth] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see my grandfather. The same house where I sit and think about him today was bought by him decades ago. Situated amidst the lush green trees of Shimla, Daddy, as he was called by everyone, bought this particular house because of its sunlight. Years after his death, I came across one of his poems dedicated to this very house. As I close my eyes, I realise that this is no ordinary house. The same table on which I write today was used by Daddy three decades ago to write some poetry. The sunlight that falls on my fingers ad brightens the

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Bhanu Ghalot] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see the rush of my daily routine. I see the street leading to my university. I see the smiling faces of my friends at the café in between classes. I see the dim lights and hear the soft music of our usual pub and the clinking of the glasses. Now I video chat with friends who live down the street. I hear of them leaving for home and I hear of them losing their part-time job. And I wonder should I stay or should I go? Then I hear of flight bans and lockdowns back home and realize it's not a choice anymore. “We the

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Sohaib Panwala] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see nothing, and I hear nothing. Pure and empty encompassing silence where the simple pleasure of springtime ought to be. Fear, distrust and solitude are pervasive. This free time lends itself to me reminiscing over missed opportunities--the friend I’ve lost contact with, the innumerable actions I‌ told myself that I’d complete one day yet I‌ never did, the ex-partner I should’ve been more patient with, the party I was invited to and lied that I‌ was sick, the job I‌ ought to have applied for, the girl I never texted back and the parent I‌ should’ve told 'I‌ love you' to. “We

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Keren Naomi] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see... words, long adjectives to describe long-forgotten memories, stubborn nouns to resurrect colossal monuments of space and time, flowery, free verbs to keep myself in the present, a host of metaphors to clothe wilting breaths in eternal flame, unnecessary adjuncts to bottle down my fear of losing the thoughts inside my head, hoping one word will lead to another memory and another and another and empty spaces, to hold, to capture and to embrace new, curious places..in myself and this world of tempered glass. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a brief diary starting with “I close my eyes

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Parul Chalana] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see humans, just humans. Looking at them I recall, for no reason perhaps, the Malthusian theory of Population. Then I see my family, I just wave them with a smile and walk further. I then see trees and trees and trees. Some green and some greener. Some tall and some taller. Beyond the trees I see wide ground. Then I open my eyes. “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

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Vanshika Gupta] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see baba and nanu sitting together, chilling, drinking whiskey and discussing the things that they were not able to do in their life. And now I am performing in front of the whole school. They are laughing at me. I am laughing at them. We both laugh at each other. And now, I am walking at midnight with my two dogs - Ayush and Bhindi. And then, we forget our route. Finally, I can see myself painting, listening to music somewhere on a hill's top and then chaiwala arrives with chai and mathri. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Susanna Crossman] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see one twisting road slide into the dunes. At the end is a stretch of sand. Sky and sea. Lines crossing from right to left, the reaching like an outstretched hand. A beach untouched. And the granite teaches rhymes to the waves, from so long ago that you cannot count even if you try. The stone walked this way before, around a circle, tallying pirates, battleships and fishermen, and a little girl knelt, with bucket and spade, gathering grains for a castle, a path. Her fingers shaped a home. “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

Our corona diary. [Text and photo by Milind Gautam] I close my eyes in my self-isolation from corona... and I see an unknown place where I long to go. I feel my love for that new plant that I bought for myself or maybe I'm falling in love with this city I'm trying to make my living in. I walk these lanes that I know by heart now and they welcome me. And the ocean opens its wide arms and embraces me gently. Maybe this feeling was that unknown place I longed to go. I sit by the ocean now and watch that beautiful sunset with the people I love. “We the Isolationists” series urges folks from any part of the world to share a