We’ve now wrapped up eleven weeks in this strange #newnormal… and things have got a lot stranger this week…
Go, grab a drink, I’m here, waiting, with mine.
Let’s start with the stuff world stuff… I know no one will have been able to miss all the escalation of the #BlackLivesMatter movement, since the sand and unnecessary death of George Floyd. This week, I haven’t been well (more on that below) but, I have been following events and happenings around the globe, either in support of, or against this movement, in horror, anger, and solidarity. This is definitely something I will write about at length, in another post, but it has been great to see the resources that have flooded the internet specifically targeted at South Asian folk, and for them to turn their eyes inwards for a moment, before jumping on the bandwagon, because there are deep-rooted stereotypes and offensive behaviors within our own culture, that we could and should be addressing, to help educate this movement. (Some words I already wrote regarding this… here.)
Then there was 1984 and the Operation Blue Star attack on the Sikhs in India. This week marked the 36th anniversary of the huge genocide that occured in the holy city of Amritsar, and across many places in India… Again, another time to reflect, educate and try to change… (I wrote about this earlier in the week too… here.)
I mentioned being unwell. Yup. I had a strange week, to be honest. It all started with a strange stomach ache on Sunday which kept drifting back and forth, followed by more aches and pains, and fatigue… Oh, the tiredness. It was awful. I spoke to school and said that I had planned on popping in to do some preparation, but I was going to rest up. That was all fine… then on Wednesday, a cough. A new cough. No temperature. I was still smelling and tasting fine, but this cough, was coming and going. Was it the dreaded virus? A heaviness on my chest as well. I was scared. Maybe it’s anxiety. Who knows. The next day, things were the same, so I checked with 111 and then the GP, who said he didn’t think it was anything to worry about, but, and especially, as I was going back to school soon, and I had family back home, I should get tested. I agreed. Deep down, there was a gnawing fear that I may have picked up COVID-19 from somewhere… I booked the test at one of the pop up drive in centres local to us, and anxiously counted down the hours til I had to go. It was a surreal time. I could still drive, so I took myself off, having given myself a scare already, by watching the videos of what test involve. The centre was filled with signs saying KEEP WINDOWS CLOSED. I had to keep my email open on my phone with a booking in QR code that was scanned at several points, through the window, to register that I had arrived. Then I was given the choice of whether I wanted to do the test myself, or get a professional to do it. I opted for the professional, as I knew I’d gag if I did it myself, and possibly not get the sample they needed. Then after driving through around three checkpoints, I arrived at the place I was allowed to open my window. (Can’t do the test through glass, obviously.) After a quick chat about what was going to be done, I bravely opened my mouth to have my non-existent tonsils tickled for ten seconds by a rather long swab. Uncomfortable, but bearable. Then it was the one I was really dreading… the nasal one. After blowing my nose I offered my nostril, and fought back the “ouch!” and tears as the swab was stuck up my nose, and twisted around, gently, but painfully, for ten seconds, before being sealed up swiftly. I was told results would be with me within 48 hours but they were often sooner. Good job, as it was Thursday, and I needed to know the next day, as it impacted my work too. Ten minutes was all it took, and I was lucky there was no queueing. Apparently they’d had a lot of teachers coming in recently. It was a tense wait, for that result to ping back, and by mid afternoon, I got the confirmation that I was negative for COVID-19. It eased a little of my anxiety, but meant that my health was probablu a mixture of another virus, hayfever and the mysterious joint thing that hasn’t been diagnosed yet. But I AM OKAY, and for that I am so THANKFUL!
The rest of the week was filled with a little writing – not as much as I wanted, because I hadn’t been feeling it, but still, some more words are better than none. And a few modules on various courses I have signed up to for marketing purposes and learning new softwares I am using. If you remember, I have been learning lettering, too. I earned a Calligraphy diploma a couple of weeks ago, and though I love the structure of the traditional Calligraphy script, I have always been mesmerised by brush lettering, or hand calligraphy, with it s softness, uniformity, but also the ability to create it your own. So I have been doing a course in that too, and I have found it to be so theraputic. I had a little project to complete as part of it, where we had to create a background as well as some lettering… what do you think?
I had requests from some of my Insta followers, to write specific things, and one was to write Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. I joked that I didn’t have a piece of paper long enough, then, you know me. Don’t challenge me if you don’t think I can do it… determined Ritu managed this (even with one spelling mistake, but with a word that long, one mistake is forgiveable, don’t you think?)
The rest of the family are well, they’re back onto the home learning, after their week off, and either it is a chore to wake them, or they surprise me by being up and at their computers before I ask.
And that was weel eleven!
This week, I am in school on Monday and Wednesday, as timetabled, and quite likely, I’ll be in another day too, to prepare for the eventual opening on the following Monday. We have had to do the parent surveys again, to see who wants to send their children in. Some will be more confident, having seen other schools already open. Some may have changed their minds, not convinced that the situation is any better, since lockdown began to be eased. After we get the new numbers, there will be more to do, again…
And, since it wasn’t as successful last week, I hope to get some more words down… Marriage Unarranged is getting lovely feedback and there are calls for another one… I need to get a wiggle on!
Oh, and while you’re here, did you sign up for my mailing list? I am in the middle of writing an exclusive Chickpea Curry Lit story for my subscribers, and there will be news, tips and even recipes! You know you want to join… go on!
Some fantastic information about Editing and jargon for indie authors. Head over to my other site to read.
Link below.
As a writer, we have the craft to create worlds, characters, and their stories. Inside our heads, those stories run like an all-singing, all-dancing movie. (Well, they do in mine…) but do our…
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “fan.” Use it by itself or find a word that starts or ends with it. Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
Fantastic prompt word form our Linda, don’t you think?
Hmmm, gotta say, I love a fan. You know the folding ones that you can spread out and use in the heat. Because, God knows, I am not great with heat. Yup, this is the girl who slowly melts as the temperatures go up.
Make up and I are not fans of each other in the heat. either. I always remember the makeup artist on my wedding day. She tried her hardest to convince me that I needed A-grade cement filler style foundation, because of all the lights and cameras that would be on me.
(She’s not wrong. An Indian wedding is nothing short of a Bollywood film in the making, when it comes to the filming, and the guests like the couple’s fans. Equipment may be smaller and more advanced now, but then, nearly twenty years ago, there were cameera men with huge cameras hoisted upon shoulders, or on tripods, big lights set up, and photographers too. The amount of times people would get angry as the film-maker was more intent on getting the ‘take’ right, rather than actuall allowing a wedding to take place smoothly! Thank goodness there is more discretion, nowadays!)
Anyway, back to my story. I knew that, despite the wedding being in November, the heat of the lamps, and all those guests in one place, would result in whatever face I had painted on, sliding down my own face, and coming to rest somewhere around my neck. So I refused, buying my own lightweight base, thank you very much!
All’s well that ends well. The makeup stayed on pretty solidly, my skin could still breathe and I only lost one of my false eyelashes, at 9pm that night, after crying so much at the departing scene of the movie wedding.
But I Smile Anyway... 