The Big C.
Know what I’m talking about? Of course you do. It’s the Coronavirus, or, to use its shorter and sharper name, COVID-19. (Actually, the magnified image of it looks quite pretty, but it’s the deadliest thing going.)
Don’t ask me why it’s number 19. I’m sick and tired of all the scientific and non-scientific jargon, the half-assed cures suggested to keep the virus at bay ( chew four or fourteen cloves of garlic, take this or that homeopathic medicine, boil pomegranate skin in two glasses of water and drink the extract…). No one seems to be talking about anything else, and I’m sure you too are SICK AND TIRED of the whole darned thing!
No, this is not to trivialise the virus (better to err on the side of caution, better to be panicky and well-prepared, as this runt is little-known and mighty dangerous). But no one seems to be talking about anything else. Programs and shows have been cancelled. We’re even afraid of going to any large gatherings, and (bless me!), even spending time in a mall! Isn’t mall-crawling the last resort of the completely and utterly bored of the human species?
After being locked in for almost a week, I’d had enough! I told the better half that I’d go crazy if I didn’t see Sheikh Zayed road, didn’t whizz down it, didn’t have a bite of something that isn’t home-cooked. (You see how good I’ve been).
So that’s just what we did- virus be damned – zipped down SZR, and picked up a thaali at my favorite hole-in-the-corner restaurant.
There’s only so much you can do, so much you can restrain from, before you go mad.
What did you do, and how is Mr Vicious Virus treating you? Let me know….