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Covid Journal: Entry 1

When epidemics grow exponentially, the way the time flows becomes haphazard. If news of casualties were markers, it should seem like that time should shrink, but time seems to behave weirdly. It oscillates between periods of ennui, and panic of the instant.

Everything seems like an eternity away. Yesterday, in fact, seems to have the echoes of last century.

Penn closed this week over the spring break. Over a spate of three progressively discomfiting announcements, classes were delayed, then moved online and eventually all gatherings of 25 or more people were prohibited.

So, I am spending the spring break in the west coast, almost an epicenter compared to idyllic Pennsylvania.

My trend line is full of academic Twitterati, complaining about having to manage children and work. I find this curiously self-obsessed. In case, any one forgets,  children >>> work.

A week back, I chatted at length with a cab driver. This might be my last cab ride for a while. He came from Afghanistan in 1980, fleeing to the US, as the Soviets invaded. He has been here forty years, raising a family and putting three children through high school and college. Never has been back to Afghanistan — we talked about how recent history as put the country in strife. He regrets the bloodshed, and thankful for his life here, even though he has to still drive to make ends meet.

He observed that he had to wait three hours (at the airport!) to get a fare. Without any sourness, and somewhat resignedly, he sees that things will only get worse from here, as he has to spend more and more time in the cab, waiting for rides.

As the Coronavirus is claiming the elderly, he morosely observed that he is a prime target. “I will die”, he said, as a matter of factly,  “without seeing my hometown”. “My kids” he seemed to say, “they will never know many things I saw, but I am glad it’s safer for them.”

At a loss for words, I curiously nodded on.

Because the pandemic is global, the lives destroyed are global. Hope, we we will make through to the other end. Just putting in my notes and entries here.

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