TThe 2020 Reality

The famous tree at the Rockefeller center was said to be ugly. A few pictures that saw of it revealed tired branches with a few bald patches. Who really cared, and who was there to admire it, or anything for that matter?

Christmas lights morphed with the fiber-optic cables that glowed in the dark like a beaming blue sun. The messages, video calls, and weird Internet searches stuffed them like a fat rat stuffs a boa constrictor. But nothing was stuck or waiting to be digested. Everything flew flawlessly and was consumed as it came.

That was the reality of 2020. As the technology took a step forward, we took one step back, turning into hobbits; sporting a bit too long hair, hiding in our huts, engaged in day drinking and magic. The blue net became the placenta of our dreams, through which we received shadows of human contact, food, and flickers of the ‘real’ world.

Anoop, let’s write this together. I wrote on Twitter as I defrosted the brussels sprouts. The freezer was full, the streets were empty.

…

A few yellowish needles fell on the ground.

There was no one to hear the sound.

Kliiiing, wait what was that?

Sleighbells, sweet-voiced carols, and snow
Seemed like a Christmas a long time ago.

Chimneys may just be filled with smoke,
For there’s no one to climb down the rope!
Reasons to rejoice may not be plenty,
And stockings hanging in a row may go empty…

But Christmas is more than just a day in December,
Laughter will still run through the house
and once again, we’ll all be together.

Corners may be different, but the home is all the same,
And as the first snowflakes begin to come down,
Joy will be spread with Santa’s name!

Stockings will still be filled with hope
and those phone bells shall ring,
And together once again,
sweet carols we’ll all be singing.
Love for togetherness subjugates any season,
The essence of happiness requires no rhyme or reason.

Christmas is more than just a day in December,
For this Christmas might as well be the only one we remember.

…

Anoop! I’m not a poet like you so I don’t know how to rhyme
But I’m sure that’s not a crime…

The winter wind blows – let me respond in prose!

The 2020 Nutcracker

Pom, pom, pom! Here comes the festive tone.

Sanitizer? Said a Scrooge-looking little man, graciously extending the potion of cleanliness.

He squeezed a little pump. Praam, praam, here comes the scum. Alcoholic droplets dispersed in foam.

“Mom!” Said a little girl, “My sleeves are wet!”
“There’s no time to complain, Colette! You have to keep your hands clean and show some grace- don’t touch your face!”

The crystal lights filled the streets, but the crowds were missing. The people were few at the local mart- a reality we knew now by heart! Usual movement resembled a dance, where no one wanted to take a chance…as the Covid angst still held its stance!

“Do you hear that?” – the carolers sang:

“Love for togetherness confounds any season,
The essence of happiness requires no rhyme or reason.

Christmas is more than just a day in December,
For this Christmas might as well be the only one we remember.”

…

“Ho ho ho,” mumbled Santa. This year his lavish beard had a double layer that made it look even grayer! Everyone was wearing a mask, hoping it was up to the task… But that wasn’t a real solution, and we waited apprehensively for vaccine distribution.

Sarah and Colette went to the mall, where every human soul was carefully patterned on the floor- one meter apart. As they met aunt Mary, they all wondered – maybe a gift home-made was better than this charade!

Bum, bum, pum! A soft elbow bump announced hello.

“Mom! Is grandma making cookie dough?” Asked little Colette

“She won’t be coming this year as we all have to adhere to the rules and regulations and various limitations. One of them being – grandma will be quarantining.”

…

Sarah, Colette, and Mary went back home, but they didn’t feel alone!

You see, that strange 2020 ballet with all its frustrations – led to new interpersonal formations.

Grandma couldn’t come, but aunt Mary invited neighbor John – who normally would have flown home!

Mary and John tested negative for Covid, and as they made love under the Christmas tree – that would never happen if the virus didn’t interfere!

Look at the fireworks!
Frosty lights and gusty wind –
Oh! It’s that time of the year!
When the thick snow comes
And gloomy tracks of past disappear.
Together, we vow fresh footprints
With some promises to adhere
A new bright future; a new calendar;
And a new life with hopes to pioneer.
Another chance to make it all right,
Make joy; drink; and dream again.
Because, once again, it’s a Happy New Year!

Story by Martha May and Anoop Kumar, drawings by Charis Jones.