As i emerge (temporarily) from my Corona-induced breakup haze, i seemed to have missed most of the second season of the India Apocalypse. Season 2 seems to have a wave of international sympathy-mingled outrage at this tragedy of mismanagement. I had quarantined myself from all News until I wandered into chat rooms for the clinically insane (read super-touchy depressed folks, tongue-in-cheek bipolars and borderline sadists), all focused on getting out of variety-shit one way or the other (in my case trolling and psycho-babbling to the weakest; ya…my ethics are dicey). Thats when I wake up to my own reality.
I discover that the red-tape Ghat that was the government has suddenly lost the popularity contest. Wh? Ok, not the hold on the center per se (one step at a time), but Mr. Narcissa seems to have lost his sheen. He was loosing quite a bit of his blinded audience to dissilusionment or death (read whatsapp-obsessed aunty/uncle whose prime-time hobby is pointing out how its ok to do a bit of minority-cleansing…i mean..you need hygeine to live in Swatch Bharath). I was like…wow….i went to sleep in CAA-NRC-where-the-f’s-my-passport time period and woke up now? Bugger i must have cryoslept through a lot.
Of course, then i got distracted by ‘cats are liquid’ videos, where cats dissolve themselves to fit into the tiniest spaces in an attempt to (A) kill boredom, (B) viva teen-rebelliona: escape human parents and their cruel freedom restrictions. Explore the un-meshed balcony. Death, i mock you. (Ring a bell?)
I have also geo-relocated myself and fam to destination Lake Paradise. If I can’t be in the wild outdoors, let the wild outdoors be me…or at the very least….near me.
Can’t deny it’s a fantastic place to hide from home-delivered viruses, battered self-esteem, and emergency-ward-slash-mass-graveyard information overload. My family’s collective value system is simple: hey if its not yet in my house, i’m not interested.
I have arrived at a fresh delusion: i have dictatorial control over the fam. Hear me out:
To administer upon my super-manipulative mom the first-dose of vaccine, I utilized my pathetic break-up tears and emotionally triggered her into obedience.
Autistic brother, surprisingly the most responsible of the lot, and has agreed to stay indoors in exchange for nothing (just some strangely innate understanding that staying inside will stop the spread…I mean…who gets that? Not normal-IQ humans).
And family dog Flip has suceeded where all humans failed. Dog has established successful working relationship with youngest teenage brother, instilling in the rebellious young adult a rare responsibility. The dog’s persistence is working better than mother’s go-to parenting approach of nagging and a string of irate college professors rants about the threat to the boy’s future. Surprising that a dog managed to instil in him human warmth. However, at the point of writing, it is still uncool to be vaccinated (death doesn’t decide these things, brah. Swag does).
All said and done, the system is working better than the country at least. Which is not saying much. And to my credit, my emotional breakdown and complete lack of management seems to have helped, and like the PM, I take undue credit when times are good.