SENSES

 Month of March began with an excitement to furnish our house which meant continuous trips to shopping malls in Doha, visits  I dislike. I have always detested shopping. However, enthusiasm to fill the company provided accommodation with possessions; that would give me momentary happiness, filled my days for some time. Each object parked in my house provided me immense satisfaction, whenever I step into my house. I can't resist admiring them. A tiny speck of dust activates me to reach for the cleaning cloth.  Smell of new furniture in the house affirmed my settlement in this new place. Sipping my green tea, enjoying the feel of new texture adorning my apartment, I would appreciate the unknown craftsmen, who toiled hard to create these pieces.

My adrenalin rush had not even settled down, when senses having had their brim started producing uncomfortable noises. The very eyes, which till yesterday were busy appreciating the interior beauty started watering. Nose choked with dust and sand blowing outside refused to perform it's primary function. My mouth gasping for breath was forced to open itself at all times. The parched tongue developed a metallic taste swallowing white pills and gulping queer syrups. The sore throat sent shrill vibrations in the room tiring me completely. Exhausted with internal aches, my body slumped one day onto the new grey and black sofa. Sedatives numbed me and my sensory organs failed to differentiate between day and night. I was sleeping through most part of day and night. Whenever I woke up, I found myself lying on the couch. I had become a part of the living room, an extension of the new furniture and I abhorred the feeling.

A fortnight later, once my senses resumed their normal functioning, fingers which enjoyed the rough texture of the sofa material now were aching to do work. Eyes started longing for change of scenario and pining for some natural colours. The diaphragm extending it's thoracic region was craving for pleasing odours. 

Cont..

I found this decade old incomplete writing of my own, not yet posted. It captures my emotions felt then. I read it with mixed feelings and chose to conclude it by filling it up with present sensations.  Absolutely clueless  on what I meant by pleasing odours, I will continue my scribbling assuming, I flipped a new page in my life. 

Most  perceptions have changed. Work  fills entire day. My eyes scan and my senses seem happy with some incomplete and some routine assignments . A seismic shift in my approach towards existence. My daily regime keeps me engaged in an eclectic mix of both bodily and cerebral tasks, with an invisible margin segregating week from weekend. My body and mind do not seem perturbed by it and that's a good feeling, more so during the current, global pandemic, which has kind of put a indefinite pause in my life along with the entire mankind. 

An year ago, gratification of sublunary senses have made most of us clog airports to fly to exotic of locales, splurge in extravagant apparel and accessories.  In the last decade, weekends had acquired a new definition. Binging at food courts, trying unheard of cuisines at malls which being the most frequented tourist spot.  Every bit of it captured by anorexic phones to be displayed in crowded social networking sites possible for admiration. Human senses deriving an dopamine high with every like and comment. 

What a paradox, the Covid virus seems to have a fascination for these  very senses with it's  mundane names such as eyes, nose, mouth etc. Senses having befriended the no more alien virus  allow it to nest in our lungs and brain causing irreparable damage. The fatigued senses preferring the lethal virus to the never ending outdoor visits and  uploaded selfies of past.

It's been more than a year, with the virus spilling and spreading into first quarter of 2021. Perhaps our senses even now need its repose to gear itself for some more decades of  exploitation, or do they prefer to be claimed by death lurking in neighbouring alleys?