Are you ready to unmask?

As we are on the brink of ringing in year 3 of the pandemic, I am proud to say that I am fully vaccinated and boosted against Covid-19.  But on the day of my booster shot last month, I did wake up feeling anxious about getting back to a post-pandemic normal life.  After a few days of pondering over my strange reaction, here are some reasons why I think the idea of unmasking is not making me jump with joy.

1. First, as a rule of thumb, I don’t jump or twirl.  I literally can’t.  I don’t have the balance for it.  Plus, I am on an injury-free streak this year and have no wish to jeopardize that.
2. I will have you know that my husband has invested heavily in masks and sacrificed a lot for the safety of our family.  In March 2020, you may remember that all the world went crazy and hoarded up masks.  It was so hard to get our hands on any, but did I lose heart and wring my hands? No sir, not me.  I immediately went online and ordered a shiny, new sewing machine and before it was even delivered, I got ready by cutting my husband’s many excellent cotton dhotis into small pieces. When the sewing machine arrived at our door the next day, it struck me that I had overlooked a small detail.  I didn't know how to sew.  Not a single button worth my spit.  Still, all was not lost.  I stored the machine inside a closet, placed an order for masks with a manufacturer in China for only a small fortune and used up all the cut pieces of dhotis around the house as rag cloths.  I figured the money I saved buying rag clothes would offset the cost of the masks from China.  I love how these things work out in the end.  Anyway, I am fairly positive that my husband has forgiven me for making koththu parotta of his dhotis.  Every time I see the sewing machine in the closet now, I remember his sacrifice and consider wearing a mask a tribute to his generosity.
3. After many months of meeting friends and family only on Zoom, I don’t know how I feel about seeing everyone back in full human form with bodies, arms and legs instead of just neck and up.  I worry about not recognizing them.  With good reason, I must say.  A lot of my new young students have only seen me on Zoom.  One such little boy knocked on my door with his father a couple of months ago wanting to get my blessings for Vijayadasami.  He looked dazed and disturbed the entire 5 minutes he was here.  He wouldn’t believe that I was the same aunty that he saw each week on Zoom.  I had sprouted legs and all, you see.  I had to finally glare at him with squinted eyes like I would in classes before he would give me a nod of acknowledgement. 
4. Do you know how much money I have saved from not going to beauty salons these past 2 years?  I can probably invest in a small condo in Alaska in another 6 months if only I keep up with this lifestyle.  Why bother buffing and polishing when no one was going to see me?  Yes, I scare myself a bit at times seeing my own reflection but hey, I throw a towel on the mirror and take care of that problem. 
5. I am afraid my rusty social skills need super heavy polishing before I can be pronounced fit to enter society again.  In pre-covid era, I have a vague memory of curving my lips upwards while meeting people.  I think it was called smiling.  The only expression that my face can remember to make any more seems to be a scowl.  Know of a place where I can sign up to relearn basic social skills? 

Looks like Covid is here to stay for the foreseeable future and we may have to learn to live with it.  The year ahead may yet be paved with anxiety and uncertainty but today, let’s give thanks to the power above for keeping us safe from Covid these past two years and march ahead together in goodwill looking forward to a better and just world.  May we all come out of this pandemic and live long, happy, and healthy lives.  Happy New Year 2022 everyone.

I cut them so sue me

What was I supposed to do? Stand back and watch them wreck havoc? I was left with no choice and simply did what I had to. As always, the innate sense of fairness in me (stop rolling your eyes, will you?) made me put myself through the same ordeal too. But did anyone appreciate me for that? Oh no, of course not. Anyway, thank your lucky stars that you weren’t a witness to that scene in my house on Monday morning. It wasn’t pretty but I was armed and up to the task.

I cut everyone’s nails on Monday. Get in line if you want to sue me. My kids are heading the long list.

You would have thought that we just lost our major European modeling contract as a result of my heinous act if you had heard the big ruckus at the scene. All the wailing and sobbing would have led you to believe that we frequented a Spa at least once a week for manicures and I butchered a few sets of French nails this week. You would have been totally wrong. Sure they were long and sharp like Cindy Crawford but there endeth the similarity. Ours were uniquely chewed up on the corners with spiked cuticles left for proof and overall stood out with a nice unhealthy yellow glaze. This is one time I can say with certainty that ours were truly one of a kind.

If you knew the real reason why I was armed with a nail cutter this week, you would take my side in a heartbeat, I am sure of it. Sure, those nails looked ugly as sin but that wasn’t why I snipped them off. Sure, we were walking around looking like a pack of tigers with our claws out to pounce on the nearest living thing but that wasn’t why I cut them. Believe it or not, I did it to safeguard our house.

Last Friday was the last day of school for this year. Christmas break was upon us again. As the school doors were opened wide for the last time on Friday afternoon, my kids rushed out like war prisoners who were freed from an isolation box after 6 months of imprisonment. Backpacks were tossed to a dusty corner with as much disdain as revenge. Sheer ecstasy of not having to do homework made my children glow like energy efficient white bulbs. Relationship between protons and neutrons, line graphs, Renaissance period literature, grammar assignments and more were decidedly swept under the memory rug and vengefully stomped upon.

Gazillion plans were made to milk the two weeks to the maximum. And they included hitting the movie theaters, game stores and restaurants. But a wicked snow storm blew its way in to our area on Friday evening like the big bad wolf and bared its fangs with glee. By Saturday morning, the snow had piled up so high that I saw my dog stare in dismay trying to find a place when nature called. With every snow flake that drifted down, my kids watched their vacation plans disintegrate.

But since our family is as resilient as they come, we decided to make the most of it. Board games were brought out and instruction sheets were read out loud. Card games kept us sane for a few hours. We decided to improvise and had a writing contest. Endless hours of movies followed endless plates of snacks. By Sunday morning we were ready to tear each others’ throats out and sing in a monotone just to kill boredom. As I watched Sunday drag along with no hope of the snow melting or the roads getting cleared, I knew I had to do it. Monday morning, I got out the nail clippers much my kids’ horror and cut everyone’ nails. I had to save our home before insanity pushed everyone over the brink to go scratching at the walls. Trust me, it was only a matter of time.

Now anytime my kids get an itch and they are forced to go looking for a sharp kitchen utensil to scratch it, they are going to turn hostile eyes towards me. (Big sigh…………….) I do hope that one day they will realize that I did it to protect our home.

-Meena Sankaran