I've decided I'm going to document these 21 days in complete lockdown. If only for myself. I think we're all living through history, and I know I'll want to go back to these moments when I'm older, when all this is (hopefully) behind us. 

Day two.

It’s been non-stop Morning seems like something that happened a year ago. Work was demanding, but my dog (who has been ill for the last few months) suddenly deteriorated today, prompting several frantic phone calls to the vet.

This prompted my father to venture outside during lockdown to buy medicine and some groceries. We’d been hearing reports about the police apprehending and arresting people who ventured outside (even though groceries and chemists are open), and while we were sure nothing bad would happen, an invisible anxiety lingered…

He was back soon, with the much-needed medicine for the dog. (And for me, because I need my daily migraine pills and they were running low.) The dog will be needing emergency surgery tomorrow, which means I’ll be heading out. Some vet’s offices are (fortunately!) functional. We’d be in a really bad way if they’d been forced closed.

Were it not for the threat of coronavirus, these daily trails wouldn’t feel so enormous. The dog’s been ailing for a while, but help always seemed close at hand. Now the ability to give him his medicine is a privilege, and the chance to see a vet? That seems to me like a small miracle. It just makes me even more anxious for those with far fewer means and much higher stakes. What is the daily-wage labourer going to do? The auto rickshaw driver? The homeless person? These are such dark times.

Hoping for the best for tomorrow. Really tired and drained, so I’m turning in early.