Yesterday was the submission deadline for a document that had been badly disrupted by the coronavirus outbreak. We squeezed it out under the wire. In the process I managed to annoy my oldest colleague/ friend at the organisation who doesn’t like his indolence to be brought to attention. Some years ago I think I would have felt feint and ill at having someone annoyed at me. I still tend to have sleepless nights – not least about how quickly and with such few checks that document went out – but am much more sturdy-hearted about people being annoyed. A recompense of age and of working as a consultant. Anyhow, it’s gone. Next year, assuming I’m asked to work on this document again, will be a funny one as it’s sure to be dominated by coronavirus, but then so is everything else in the foreseeable future.
It turned out one sister slipped out and made her way to Lahore before the clampdown began.
Someone in India told of the panic and terror as the lockdown began, of people fighting over rations on the streets, of police doing lathi charges at pharmacies. She herself was unable to collect enough infant formula for the fortnight.
In Malaysia, someone sneaked out to the forest where there is a is river and caught a big fish. When he posted it on his Whatsapp group it exploded in congratulations, people urging him to freeze it and send it to them in Singapore or Johor or wherever.
In Iran, Nowruz celebrated with poetry insribed on banners hanging from apartment blocks.
All around the world people complain of losing their grasp of time, of one day sliding into another as we wait for this to play itself out.