<p>It is the second time in a row I wake up in the middle of the night. “What’s the matter?” my husband asks with a perturbed look on his face. “What if I never get to see my parents,” I mumble. My parents live alone in another city. My husband gives me a quelling look as I continue rattling off the ‘what-if’ scenarios. “Think positive. Isn’t that what you tell the kids,” he reminds me. “It’s bad enough when you’re talking to your teeth,” he adds.</p>.<p>Okay, I admit it. For the last few days I’ve been having a quiet talk with my back molars. The one-sided conversation makes my family wonder if I had lost it? “I’ve postponed my root canal surgery and am trying talk therapy with my teeth,” I explain to them. It makes sense not to have elective procedures these days. My daughter, the psychology graduate, tries not to roll her eyes at these conversations between her parents. It’s bad enough she had to leave her home and move in with her parents. “At least my talking to plants doesn’t seem weird now,” she says.</p>.<p>To many of us, the last few months have felt dystopian. The despair of healthcare workers, the loneliness of the elderly, and bafflement of young children are all too familiar scenes. Our behaviour and thinking from the personal to the social and political has changed as we adapt to the new normal.</p>.<p>From the onset of the outbreak, even the routine family trip to the grocery store underwent a sea change. It was akin to a movie scene of a SWAT team preparing an impending action. My husband first made a “map” of the store and re-ordered our shopping list, so we could navigate in a single direction. I found myself revisiting the shopping list now and then. Do I need this item? Should I get it later? Had I forgotten something? My umpteen questions drove my husband batty. I sulked when there was no home delivery and a minute later felt guilty about those essential workers, who still had to be out there.</p>.<p>The silver lining in this chaos and calamity is that families and friends are reaching out to one another. Old friends and acquaintances who had disappeared for decades suddenly pop up in our lives like benevolent genies. They post videos, articles and graphs ranging from factual and scary to humorous to bizarre. The creative bug in almost everyone seems to have woken up!</p>.<p>CHITRA SRIKRISHNA</p>
<p>It is the second time in a row I wake up in the middle of the night. “What’s the matter?” my husband asks with a perturbed look on his face. “What if I never get to see my parents,” I mumble. My parents live alone in another city. My husband gives me a quelling look as I continue rattling off the ‘what-if’ scenarios. “Think positive. Isn’t that what you tell the kids,” he reminds me. “It’s bad enough when you’re talking to your teeth,” he adds.</p>.<p>Okay, I admit it. For the last few days I’ve been having a quiet talk with my back molars. The one-sided conversation makes my family wonder if I had lost it? “I’ve postponed my root canal surgery and am trying talk therapy with my teeth,” I explain to them. It makes sense not to have elective procedures these days. My daughter, the psychology graduate, tries not to roll her eyes at these conversations between her parents. It’s bad enough she had to leave her home and move in with her parents. “At least my talking to plants doesn’t seem weird now,” she says.</p>.<p>To many of us, the last few months have felt dystopian. The despair of healthcare workers, the loneliness of the elderly, and bafflement of young children are all too familiar scenes. Our behaviour and thinking from the personal to the social and political has changed as we adapt to the new normal.</p>.<p>From the onset of the outbreak, even the routine family trip to the grocery store underwent a sea change. It was akin to a movie scene of a SWAT team preparing an impending action. My husband first made a “map” of the store and re-ordered our shopping list, so we could navigate in a single direction. I found myself revisiting the shopping list now and then. Do I need this item? Should I get it later? Had I forgotten something? My umpteen questions drove my husband batty. I sulked when there was no home delivery and a minute later felt guilty about those essential workers, who still had to be out there.</p>.<p>The silver lining in this chaos and calamity is that families and friends are reaching out to one another. Old friends and acquaintances who had disappeared for decades suddenly pop up in our lives like benevolent genies. They post videos, articles and graphs ranging from factual and scary to humorous to bizarre. The creative bug in almost everyone seems to have woken up!</p>.<p>CHITRA SRIKRISHNA</p>