I close my eyes during self-isolation in Corona , and I see darkness has uncoiled in my gut alike a solenoid. Minute by minute , second by second like the ticks on the clock, my anxiety balloons. The days pass by bleakly, just like my mood. Alas! The atmosphere.
Gazing at the cloudless sky, the cooked-up chaos , I’m struck motionless . The days are blend into each other . There is no zeal and zest left in life. Now life is a sprint, unlike earlier when it was a marathon. People have returned to their roots. The time forinner reflection has begun. I am a tornado of emotions. But the clouds seem promising. Ahem! I shall be set free one day. Until then my mood shall be flat, flat as the grey weather.