IT USED to be that every two weeks, people scrambled to know by midnight what the new lockdown name would be. Well, not anymore. Because does it really matter what name they give it?
Our hospitals are still full. Our healthcare workers are still overwhelmed. Personal protective equipment and medications are still scarce. And the virus is still out there—in full force, spreading faster than ever in its mutated form.
Life remains, for most of us, a matter of survival, whether it’s finding ways to live with reduced income or finding ways to avoid getting infected by the virus when we venture out of our homes into the sea of stubbornness.
It’s not a matter of education or awareness. Some people just refuse to do it. Out of a sense of entitlement. Out of deep denial. Out of indolence or even indifference.
Maybe, they have to die to understand how important it is for every person to do their part in this pandemic. But then, the lesson would be moot and academic. Or maybe, someone close to them has to die—for them to understand that everything we do on a daily basis, matters.
It is not okay to pull your mask down to talk to your friends, neighbors or work colleagues. Why do you think it’s okay not to put a mask on when you talk to people you know? Do you realize you’re most vulnerable when you’re eating because obviously, you can’t eat with your mask on?
You can’t visit friends. You can’t date. You can’t hook up. Unless you’re prepared to die. And kill others, as well, whom you may inadvertently infect because you so arrogantly think you’re invincible.
Is it cognitive dissonance? Is it denial? Is it idiocy, ignorance, indifference?
People are rebelling against lockdown restrictions despite knowing its dire ramifications. It’s called lockdown fatigue. But for those who have not given in to it, don’t. Because when you do, you succumb.
The lockdown is getting to me too—in a different way. Too many hours in front of the screen. The Internet churns out so much mind-blowing information about the virus on a daily basis. I can’t tear myself away from my screen.
My mind is on cloud nine. But my body is down in the dumps. I make an effort to exercise but I can’t get back to the level I was at—when a professional was within six feet of me, cracking a whip.
A few days ago, I finally stepped on the scale. I was relieved to find that my BMI was under control. Still, I can do better—in terms of strength, flexibility and wellness. I’m not giving up.
Neither should you. Whatever name they give our lockdown, let’s keep our masks on. Let’s keep our distance. Let’s stay home. This pandemic requires personal sacrifice from each of us. Let’s not let lockdown fatigue get to us. We cannot give up. We cannot succumb.