Life has a weird pace. 

Never did I see Covid 19 coming in 2019. We were living in our blissful utopia, in the the world of possibilities. 

Then, boom. Our lives changed in a flicker of an eyelid.

What happened?

2020 of course.

And I think that is enough. I don't have to recount the horrors, and make them vivid again. 2020 is an universal nightmare, which I am sure none of us forgot. And many of us are still living in the same nightmare. 

Its continuing wreaking havoc till 2021, and god knows for how long it will continue to do so.

One virus, but destruction to all. 

Isn't it ironical  that a small intermediate creature, half alive half dead shook the entire world?

I don't know what I exactly feel right now. It's a sense of foreboding, nostalgia, and pain. Memories, they are such treacherous things sometimes, at the same time so precious. Those past memories are tearing me apart, but also keeping me alive. 

We can all admit the fact that our lives underwent drastic changes, and we ourselves changed so much during the lockdown period. And now when I am snapped from all connections, cut off from offline school, slowly nearing the brink of insanity, I decided to sit down with my pen and write.

In the beginning of 2020, my heart was brimming with hope. No, by the Durga Pujas everything would be over. We will go pandal hopping. No school for sometime would be nice for a change. Oh, god how wrong I was? The lockdown went on and on, and schools never reopened. Durga pujas came and passed by, but there was no joy, no happiness, but only darkness enveloped Kolkata. I pray to god that may Kolkata never be that sad again. Durga Pujas is the best time of the year for us, entire Kolkata transforms into this ever active ever vibrant ever festive atmosphere. But in 2020, owing to the increasing number of cases, the government had banned people from entering pandals. And every Kolkata resident knows how much that hurts. Well, that was a right decision, because one cannot stake the lives of so many people. 

Things were taking a turn for the better, the hope in me bloomed. I was hoping normalcy would return to our lives. But no, we are still stuck in our houses, our schools  still now didn't open. I miss my school so much. We are missing out from making so many new memories. 

Hence whenever thoughts about my school comes to my mind, it pains my heart. And what weighs my heart more, is the fun I used to have with my previous batchmates would never again happen. In 2020, I was reading in the tenth standard. Board batch. Its a big deal for us Indians. We choose our streams- Humanities, Commerce or Science based on the result of the examinations. So, all students are in a frenzied state. Tenth standard is an anxious phase for all. And all these added woes made our class tenth so much worse. But now, I am in the eleventh standard, studying Humanities. What happened? Class 10 passed away, and I hardly met my classmates. Now, I am in Class 11, all of us are in different streams, and even different schools. Many students leave school after tenth. So, even if I get to go back to school, my  classmates are all alien, and new to me. I would have to again acquaint and befriend people. A new process. That is difficult, for a shy person like me. I am so awkward around people. 

In fact, half of the year went by, I am nearing the completion of my class 11, and then I will be in 12. If this goes on for another year, I will pass out from school, and I will never get to go to school again. And I will be telling stories to other people how the last year I ever went physically to school was class 9. It feels terrible. I hope, that at least in class 12 I can go to school physically. Enough is enough. Covid 19, aren't you satiated? Do you want more destruction? Haven't you done enough already? 

Am I still holding on to hope? Actually, 2020 was still okay. We were optimistic, we were ready to bear the avalanches. But in 2021, we are slowly, losing hope. Losing faith. It seems like the normal days have become history. People mention them as if they were stories of fables. And its true. I also treat those days like a dream within a dream. 

The life I am living is such a limited version of what could have been. Maybe, the wise person would say 'Change is the only constant.' Yes, true. Changes are the only constant. And I should accept it. I should get used to this 'new normal.' I let that sink in, but often my past life beckons to me. I wish this was a nightmare. I go to bed everyday hoping when I wake up, I will find there never was such a horrible thing like Corona. I try to be patient and tolerant, and cling on to hope. But sometimes pessimism trickles in. And I felt I should let out my thoughts, hence I came to Wattpad to detoxify me. 

Trust me, I always am optimistic, I hold on to hope. All the economic, social and health crisis that Covid brought, would soon be over.

Ask my memories to stop messing with me. Stop making me go down the memory lane. And stop blurring all the good memories. It seems like our lives got divided in two halves- one without Covid, and one with Covid. With the passage of time, honestly the life without Covid has become a distant dream, far from reality. Even the good memories are slowly becoming so vague, and unreal. I hope, I hope so desperately that soon all our patience pays off, and normalcy returns to our life.

But the thing that scares me is, the harsh reality of life. Normal lives would come back perhaps, but not entirely. People already have become distant during lockdown, people have started doubting others, mistrusting people. And going back to the same cordial relationships would take a lot of time! Not everything would be the same again. Some changes, maybe are permanent, though change itself is a continuous process. Paradoxical, but true. Some changes are irrevocable, irreversible.