Not so socially distant, missing the vacay-cay-cay

The much anticipated annual holidays have given way to the infamous holy-lockdown-days. Instead of visiting a foreign(or foreign to your city limits) land and the side-effects of a “vacay-cay-cay”, like

  • Commenting on how the locals are rather in shape despite feasting on the local bread that is high on gluten,
  • Paying twice the amount on taxi fare that you usually would or could,
  • Testing the err, sunscreening skills of your imported sunscreen,
  • Discovering and then adjusting your metabolic clock to the routine of “sight-seeing”,
  • Pleasures of room service(and the luxury of replacing objects in your room daily, everything except your travel companions),
  • Waxing eloquent at the vast possibilities of names/metaphors/cosmic form that a trivial wifi password could take(as Trump says, You’ll be amazed),
  • Overeating oversleeping over-Instagramming (I heard it’s legit in these times, specifically when Neptune approaches the outer periphery of Libra constellation and in a safe food-take-away mutually agreed upon distance) and under walking,
  • Paying the equivalent price of admission for a weekend movie at the local IMAX theater for a cup of tea(the illusive teabag variant),
  • Acquiring quick calculating acumen to convert currencies, applying holiday tax/discount(and something called self-declared consolation rebate, where you convince yourself and the others accompanying you in this holy mission that it is perfectly normal, and not inane at all, to buy a pack of jasmine scented wet wipes, it will double up as a souvenir and wipe your post-vacay blues away),


You can soak in the magnificence of lockdown pleasures like,

  • Wearing any attire and adorning any hairdo that you wish in common areas and yet not revealing your face (because masks),
  • Scrolling through social media posts and letting out a quiet chuckle at the pointlessness of it all- the world is ending anyway(throwback Thursdays, flashback Fridays, sadistic Saturdays),
  • Encouraging the apocalyptic side in you, and calling it for a double shot espresso date,
  • Switching from cane sugar to a new invention curiously called “sugar”, because, refer to #2,
  • Having a zoom meeting with yourself(meta much) and change your background to a beach,
  • Making a simple tea for yourself(the illusive teabag variant),
  • Playing old cricket matches on the telly and just pausing them once in a while, and pointing out the error in the posture of the opening batsman,
  • When neighborhood Ronnie(who plays kickass guitar and croons for all and sundry) announces his home concert on the society WhatsApp, reporting it as spam to the admin and getting the society WhatsApp group banned till 2025(do the same for Gym George and his fitness challenges),
  • When the aforesaid virtual group encourages medieval customs like barter of paneer for onions, or someone asks for help(!) with a phone charger or mixie, listing down how the economic repercussions of an unplanned demand-supply external stimuli may cause regurgitations in familial harmony(quote Adam Smith if you want, he won’t mind),
  • Reading your blog posts from 2008 that no one read (including you), and nod off to sleep praising yourself in all modesty.

Bottom line, as Tarantino says, live in the now or you will miss if it passes, or something like that. May be look it up, you clearly have nothing else to do.


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