Raat taaro bhare na mile to, Dil ka deepak jalana padega.
I'm irritated and close to tears. Reason? Negligence of the authorities towards us in Quarantine. It's been one hour since I've been trying to call the mess. It's 10. 10 pm, and I'm hungry, no callback and no food. That's how they treat us, like shit. No consideration for the ones they're keeping locked.
The wardens are all new and I don't have their numbers so I have no choice but to go downstairs. I stand at the edge of the lift itself and inform her that food isn't here. She offers to check up on them so I think I should wait. A bunch of other girls appear in a while and suddenly they are staring at me as if I am dirty. Their gazes have that quiet, seething dissaproval and disgust one wouldn't even give a beggar on the streets.
They make a big show of going to the notice pasted on the front wall and reading it out loud for me. 'No going out of the room' they emphasise it, keeping in mind that I hear them. I don't say anything as I pretend to be busy on my phone. I feel the tears coming.
The warden comes in and offers me another number to call. They ask me why didn't I call on that number? I grit my teeth and say that I called in the number they originally gave to me and I've been calling on the sane for three days. They informed me that mess is closed but they'll try to send something.
I look at the rice and eggplant mush, push it around my plate a bit, gulp down some of that food which tastes like bland starch down my throat and ultimately I dispose it off. The tears threaten at the edge of my sanity but I know there is one more work left to do. I place a video call to my parents, pasting a bright smile on my face for their sake.
As soon as the call is done, I throw down the phone and the tears come, unbidden and foreign. Tears of anger and frustration. Tears from rejection and judgemental stares, all flood my conscience inside out as I struggle to catch a grip.
I don't cry more. The tears dry up pretty fast and that is more frustrating. The suppressed tears are sometimes suffocating. I bury my head into my pillow and scream.
~~~~~~~~~
The disease isn't the virus. The real disease is in the minds of the people. Fear, misconceptions, superstitions and irrational beliefs. These are tough times. No one can blame them for how they behave but then does that make it any easier? We're humans too? Just because we're in Quarantine, do we deserve all that we suffer? Recently a news came about how a person who went home after recovering from CoVid19 actually committed suicide as he couldn't keep up with the taunts and the ostracization by the society. Oh society! So much left to see. I've seen only 20 years.
~~~~~~~~
Today's note is short I know but I'm not in a condition to write about new things. My nails broke while doing household work and it broke the skin too so applying hand sanitiser hurts like hell. Else I'm okay. Halfway through my current read. I'm clicking pictures of my favourite parts from the book and making some quote arts.
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So in spite of all that happened, I'm humming these lines...
Phool jeevan mein gar na khile to Kaanton se bhi nibhaana padega
From Zindagi Pyar Ka Geet Hai by Lata Mangeshkar
All days won't be the same and life isn't all roses but the thorns won't affect me much. I've gotten used to it all and Day 3 of self isolation is over on a sad note but yet I'm positive that tomorrow will be better.
