A Story of a Woman in Covid-19 Times

It was a 1 room kitchen. A small bathroom-cum-toilet where one could touch the other end of the wall with just an outstretched arm. The wall paint was peeling. The blue-grey colour was morose anyway. It perhaps was good that the white of the spackle was showing up as patches. The rooms seemed more lively thus.

She peeled vegetables for the evening dinner as she spoke into her headset. Who would believe she was in marketing and sales. She was rotating the same 3 night suits for weeks now. The internet speed could not support the video if she turned her camera on, so she did not need to dress up.

No lipstick to add colour and courage to allow her to smile. No mascara to hide the sadness in her eyes and give a sense of joy, even if false. No blush to remind her of youth and hope. Now her tear swollen eyes stared back at her accusingly. Her lips drooped south and the only colour in them came from her biting them so often to hold back her pain. Her face did have colour, but purple not pink. Her husband too knew that she could not show her face, so he no longer seemed to care where he hit her.

Oh it was not often. Generally, because of his stress. His work was high pressure. He was a nurse. He could not help but feel distressed. The number of Covid-19 cases in his hospital had put the staff under so much pressure. Plus all the deaths. He had changed. How could he not? She needed to be more understanding. She needed to find better ways he could let off steam. She had tried. It was difficult to think of ways all by herself. But whom could she ask? It was just voice raised in temper, irritability and a couple of broken plates so far. Nothing drastic. She had tried. But, oh, she was so tired as well.

He mocked her. Just a few Zoom calls or Google Meets and housework. Try doing his job. She agreed. But how she yearned to escape. To go out for a movie. To let loose with friends over some food and drinks. To even go to his parents' house. Just anything. But yes, he had it tougher. How could she complain? 

She peeled the vegetables. She answered the sales queries. She bit her lip as another executive took the turn. She wondered how long this lockdown would last for and if she would ever be able to be the person she used to be. If there could be spring in her footsteps, a buoyancy in her smile and a sparkle in her eyes even if brought about by makeup. Even if it was all for performance for others. Even if. For that had been what had made her get up. Now that motive was gone. Why did she get up, she wondered. Why should she, she pondered. Maybe tomorrow I won't, she considered. No, tomorrow she wouldn't, she decided.

But was it her decision to make? Her husband shook her up and asked for breakfast. When it was not ready on time, a slap awaited her. Some more words. She could make no sense of them. But she nodded. She then, as usual, switched on her laptop, hooked on her headset and made the calls. 

Habits were funny things. They often times overrode decisions one had made.

- Written on 26 April 2021.

- Covid-19 has made me listen so often at the other end od the phone, feeling helpless against the anguish pouring out through the speaker. Not even a hug can be given. Never realised how comforting it is to comfort. This is just my imagination, but the inspiration is sadly all too real in not the events, but the double burden borne by so many women.