City Series – Sumaiyya Rehman in Delhi, We the Isolationists (274th Corona Diary)
Our corona diary.
[Text and photo by Sumaiyya Rehman]
I close my eyes in self-isolation from corona… and I see that road which I would take on way to my university, stopping momentarily to adjust my earphones. The summer heat would crawl inside, paving its way into my helmet, making my hair sweat, making me swear I would never come this way again, always knowing I would. I see that road-side joint where the plastic box labeled ‘Centre Fruit’ outside, had ‘Mango Bite’ inside. The seller uncle would always arrange the Bisleri bottles height-wise. Does he dare disturb the universe? The joint was beside the traffic light, where the family of seven lived, under the lamp post, under the sun, under the rain, under the passing crowd of those who had homes. The mother fed the infant’s half naked body on her naked breast. The toddler ran around with a wired loop. Going through it, coming out, as if someday he could come out to a more pleasant reality. Like a loop, on repeat, he would go on performing in front of me and by the end, too happy to have earned five rupees he teases his elder sister, who is barefoot on the other side, selling roses and pens to those who need them the least. He is so content. Ahh…how I wish his contentment was contagious. On my lucky days I would see other members as well. All under one roof—the traffic light. Where are they now? As scared of the world as we are?
“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 firstname.lastname@example.org.