Unexpected Crisis – Incredible Opportunity
(10 min read)
Winston Churchill is famously quoted to
have said, “Never let a good crisis go to waste”.
Incidentally
quarantine, isolation and staying put at home was a regular event for me after suffering medical adversity at 14 months of age.
It all began at the ID Hospital,
thereafter at home for over six months and continued until I was about 18. In the early years, it hardly mattered; unaware
of all that transpired, being loved and looked after, I was carefree and
oblivious of my environs. Just that a cheerful
and feisty prattler was troubled at the restrictions on movement beside’s her
routine functions. Each passing day became
complicated with the intensification of health issues. Thus staying at home in bed developed into a
regular feature. Whether it was a
surgery to drain unused serum deposits
or simple childhood diseases; every illness I contracted threatened to see me
to my grave. But I survived, each time,
every time.
My
early days were spirited and energetic not realising I was already ‘handicapped’
(differently-abled was a term created
much later)’. I knew I had a limp; I was weak and could not
run or jump as much as others. Yet I
climbed trees crawled into abandoned shanties, crossed over broken walls
between houses, and mostly played with the boys in the “para”. Summer holiday’s found me in similar
activities with cousins and the extended family. Therefore, being confined while you could hear
squeals of laughter, the pitter-patter of feet; bouncing of balls, marbles clinking
and “bhokatta”
for kites, below your window, or up on the terrace were brutally agonising. Until a certain age, I lived in denial and
thought, it would change. Time quickly
taught me, this would just be the way.
By the age of seven, I learnt to live through “my lockdown’s”. Never realised I would benefit from those survival
lessons to cope with a Pandemic in my lifetime.
As I ponder on the lessons I learnt, am grateful for the “predicament”.
Accept the Moment
There
came a point when I learnt to accept my inabilities during my sickness so my
restrictions became tolerable. I always kept
a pocket calendar as my bookmark and once I could sit up in the recovery stages
I would cross out each day and wait for the doctor to give me progressive
clearance. Gradually I learnt to concentrate
on the “moment”. I began focusing on possibilities instead
of letting frustration or disappointment to creep in. No outdoor, no school. Therefore, studying, reading, dolls and
imagination became my best buddies.
In the given circumstances, during those phases, a 6/4 bed
was what I had to accept and make use of to its fullest. I could be a rebel and resign or be
determined to define.
The
night when our PM announced, “Janta Curfew” and the plan to applaud the front
liners, during my prayer time something prompted me to look for a deeper purpose. I realised we would have no Church that
Sunday. So what? We could pray for protection over these
precious people right from where we were. We did!!
We engaged in prayer for 22 minutes on 22nd March at 22:22 hours.
On
the above day, the best one could do was waiting at the moment. As law-abiding citizens, stay home, respect
authority and the instructions of our PM, applaud the efforts of our front
liners and lastly feel the warmth of divine protection. Acceptance
of the moment and giving it my best
within the confines of an approximately 1200 sqft home was the best I could do.
Recognise
your potential
I
am grateful to “my thakuma”. She encouraged me to recognise what I could
do rather than what I couldn’t. I
developed the love for stories and crafting from waste and discarded
items. My old lady was a genius. She taught me to make wigs out of betelnut shells! Yes, the over-enthusiastic
hairdresser in me, often chopped off my doll’s hair. At times, exaggerating the shampooing created
knotted locks and yet other times I ripped them off out of frustration.
Resources
back then were limited and I developed a knack for collecting every little item
(“kaj e asbe”). Gathering refuse items like wrappers, bits
of plastics, ribbons, bottles, cans and broken toys. Every non-perishable item became a project
for me (it still is). My mother recalls
I had an awfully sharp memory so even if one such treasure piece was missing
from my stash, I would go under the dining table and cry. All the hobbies that I have developed over the
years were learnt during this phase of my life.
I would miss school and at least one term examination, yet never ranked
below 4th in a class of 40.
Surprisingly, all of this while being severely circumstantially disadvantaged. However, lethargy during challenges got the better of me and I
could not hold on to my standards. No regrets;
today I use them as my “Things NOT to Do”
checklist.
A
week into the lockdown, I dabbled between choices. Already enrolled in a Masters programme, I
rationalised the plan for further academic courses. I wanted to spend a few light moments,
unwind, and perhaps dedicate time to my post-retirement leisure pursuits. I drew up a list of several comfortable ideas
alongside a few uncharted territories after proper introspection. I logged onto my blog, started six years ago
assisted by my son, Samuel. Glanced
through apologetically; remembering how he encouraged me to begin and the
conversations thereafter. The rest of
the list included studying blogging, crafts, embroidery, knitting, making song
covers and painting; point to be noted, I cannot draw a straight line to save
myself but love playing with colours.
Hence this gallant decision to experiment.
At
first, I was averse to a schedule.
Again!! Oh, come on!! This time is
for looking within, breaking out and just floating into philosophical life
lessons. A week of idealistic lethargy compelled
me to slip back into a routine, albeit kinder on myself and others. The decision was clear, “if I achieve
nothing, acquire no new skill and even stack “my projects” back into their
corners; wiser in recognising myself and kinder in accepting others is definitely
something I want to go out with from this lockdown. That was not negotiable. The crossover had to be different. I am not going back the same.
Curious
learners adopt an unusual approach, they decide to face up with grit and make
the most of a situation, turning it to their advantage. I chose to be curious.
Best
foot forward
As
illnesses became a regular affair, slowly my bed became endurable and I developed
a sound camaraderie with textbooks, storybooks, my grandmother’s melodious
voice and all that could keep me busy. I
learnt to give my best. A soft-spoken tough
taskmaster, Granny never let me get away with average efforts. Homeschooling resulted naturally since I
often missed months of school. There was
no escape having a stay home mother who was an indisputably strict trained
teacher. In the absence of technology,
kind classmates obliged with the necessary information to my mother who would diligently
meet them after school hours or visit their homes. I know many may have major cardiac distress,
that ‘I’, yes ‘I’ would score 100% in mathematics. And my husband raises his eyebrow reading I scored
100% in spellings (he is a walking Alt+F7 key). This was thanks to my grandmother repeating
spellings and tables with me throughout the day at every opportunity. In the absence of regular lessons; her logic
was “if this is all you can do now, become flawless”.
As
I was settled into a sound mix of what I wanted to do during this unexpected free period. I cued up my schedule. Two blocks of my day would be devoted to my
blog, painting t-shirts in between and cleaning out “essentials” that were
basically garbage. Finally, I may be
able to part with my uncontested “stasher
of the family” title. I did open my
books a couple of times but like a juvenile student, rushed back to my hobbies;
especially the newfound trials at painting.
Crafts, embroidery, knitting, making song covers with my little one have
kept me excited like a child. All these
years of neglect towards the other side of me came tumbling out of a stuffed
closet. I had to have my heart’s content;
make the best till I can.
Better
not bitter
I learnt coexistence with everything
MEDICAL… doctor’s nurse’s needles and the odour of hospitals. I developed eating disorders with the
antiseptic smells and it made me frail.
I had a damaged liver so most foods did not agree with me. Poisonous cysts erupted all over my body; the
one I got in my eye threatened my sight.
I struggled on a daily basis just to live. My trysts with doctors, healers and all sorts
of people were endless. They made my
parents believe that I would be alright.
Everyone had an opinion on my life, none gave a solution. My treatments were painful but I never complained
or made it difficult for the procedures.
Yes, I cried but I always prayed and smiled through my tears and sobs. My dreams kept shifting, from Doctor to
Professor to Civil Servant to an EA
is where I have reached, I am happy that though my dreams kept changing it could
not alter my enthusiasm for life and living.
Having selected my own agenda, I wanted to cheer
up my little one. Incidentally, the
lockdown hasn’t been a fun extension of term break for children. The given circumstance has distressed them
greatly, I assume far greater than us adults.
It isn’t exciting to miss school any longer; the thought of all the boundaries
once they joined school must be overwhelming. No group huddles, no sharing food, exchanging
stationery or sneaking in treats while the class went on. What would be normal? Unlike us, children are invisibly
apprehensive and tentative. While we
have our ways of de-stressing, in today’s screen-oriented world, children need
to be coached to distract themselves. I
tried different ways; some have been successful, in some I failed. The most fulfilling moment was being asked to
teach her The Merchant of Venice. We
enjoyed a morning of loosely unfolding the plot in a casual storytelling
session. Online classes by the school take care of the academic aspect,
hence my little one and I spend time crafting together, talking about
everything under the sun and getting to know the mundane kitchen activities
that help in rustling up a meal. At
times we play Word Games and Memory Games; also, while I blog, she is happily
maintaining a journal.
There
are considerable benefits a crisis can offer during and after it occurs. Throughout the predicament, one must continually
keep an eye on what will occur when it is over.
Amongst all the moments at this time, it’s the now that counts. I must establish that I can and I will, no
matter what comes. There’s no way to veil
the truth: this is the moment when things need to get done yet this is the time
we slip into an abyss of pity, remorse and fate. During an unexpected crisis, we can discover incredible
opportunities that come with our strength to rise above.
Will
I break under pressure? Will I exploit it to soar above it all? Do I need to make a choice, or the writing is
clear on the wall?
(To be continued - “Unravel Contentment in
Confinement”)
Images: Courtesy
Google Images
The silly sensitive me finds the timing all haywire. I have paused. I desire to halt; it is my time to slow down. If we all make it to the other side of COVID 19, I will be able to joyfully share my kosha mangsho, biryani, steak, manchurians, focaccia and pasta. I will offer you the visual treats of my bakes and pot roasts. And if you promise to drop by, my table will be laid out with love in every dish and warmth in every condiment.
