<p>In the Shakespearian play <em>Hamlet</em>, the Prince of Denmark on the horns of a dilemma poses a question to himself-- to be or not to be? Lesser mortals like us battling deadly pandemics like coronavirus, enduring lockdowns can hardly afford to ask ourselves such questions anymore. With lockdown 2.0 yielding place to lockdown 3.0 human traffic was allowed. For me, the joy was short-lived. On the wrong side of sixty with a co-morbidity as a bonus, I have been advised (nay ordered) to continue my lockdown sentence as the coronavirus has a special affinity towards senior citizens. But there is a loophole in every law and this diktat has a provision which says that you could step out for health reasons or for medical emergencies.</p>.<p>So the question that I posed myself is whether I should stay in or step out. Ever since I hung up my boots I have made it a habit to take a brisk morning walk in a neighbouring park for health reasons. With the relaxations, I felt that there was no reason to stay cocooned in my matchbox of a flat.</p>.<p>But before making such earth-shattering decisions I generally consult my good friend Anand. "Anand where are you? Let me guess, you are cooped up at home, right?" There was a chuckle from the other end. "I am walking in a park," came the reply. I saw red. "What do you mean you are walking in a park? Aren’t all the parks including large ones like Cubbon and Lalbagh under lock and key?" I asked.</p>.<p>"No, my park is wide open," he said. As we continued our conversation I learnt that the nomenclature ‘park’ was for a large patch of green with a few swings and seesaws to simulate a park and a stretch for the walking fraternity all situated within his apartment complex.</p>.<p>And it was not locked because it had no gates. Summoning all the wisdom at his command, Anand advised me to resume my morning walks once the dusk to dawn curfew ended at seven in the morning, donning full protective gear. Life is no longer a walk in these difficult times, my friends. But this story has an unhappy ending. My decision to step out into the glorious sunshine was vetoed by two women, who matter more to me than all the Anands in the world put together, my wife and daughter.</p>.<p dir="ltr"><em>The views expressed above are the authors' own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH</em></p>
<p>In the Shakespearian play <em>Hamlet</em>, the Prince of Denmark on the horns of a dilemma poses a question to himself-- to be or not to be? Lesser mortals like us battling deadly pandemics like coronavirus, enduring lockdowns can hardly afford to ask ourselves such questions anymore. With lockdown 2.0 yielding place to lockdown 3.0 human traffic was allowed. For me, the joy was short-lived. On the wrong side of sixty with a co-morbidity as a bonus, I have been advised (nay ordered) to continue my lockdown sentence as the coronavirus has a special affinity towards senior citizens. But there is a loophole in every law and this diktat has a provision which says that you could step out for health reasons or for medical emergencies.</p>.<p>So the question that I posed myself is whether I should stay in or step out. Ever since I hung up my boots I have made it a habit to take a brisk morning walk in a neighbouring park for health reasons. With the relaxations, I felt that there was no reason to stay cocooned in my matchbox of a flat.</p>.<p>But before making such earth-shattering decisions I generally consult my good friend Anand. "Anand where are you? Let me guess, you are cooped up at home, right?" There was a chuckle from the other end. "I am walking in a park," came the reply. I saw red. "What do you mean you are walking in a park? Aren’t all the parks including large ones like Cubbon and Lalbagh under lock and key?" I asked.</p>.<p>"No, my park is wide open," he said. As we continued our conversation I learnt that the nomenclature ‘park’ was for a large patch of green with a few swings and seesaws to simulate a park and a stretch for the walking fraternity all situated within his apartment complex.</p>.<p>And it was not locked because it had no gates. Summoning all the wisdom at his command, Anand advised me to resume my morning walks once the dusk to dawn curfew ended at seven in the morning, donning full protective gear. Life is no longer a walk in these difficult times, my friends. But this story has an unhappy ending. My decision to step out into the glorious sunshine was vetoed by two women, who matter more to me than all the Anands in the world put together, my wife and daughter.</p>.<p dir="ltr"><em>The views expressed above are the authors' own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH</em></p>