This post brings a conclusive closure to this series. The previous post shone light on my experiences in India during the first peak of the pandemic.

The story revolves around my quarantine experience in India followed closely by my time in Oman. Only time will tell if there would be another circumstance where I would be subjected to a similar setting. Let’s for the moment, hope that the likelihood of occurrence to be very low.

As I proceeded further, away from the dreaded rungs of rickety noises exchanged within the meek capacity of the immigration authority. I half-hoped that my life would be relatively easier as I proceeded closer to what looked like the exit gates.

**But, wait, why would I spend the next 3 hours in this claustrophobia inducing space if I was so close to exiting it?
**
And here lies the twist.

The authorities wanted to show you the essence of freedom and almost immediately shove you back to your cage. Have you seen trained pets? How they despise being left out of their cages?

That is because they are well aware that they will eventually be put back, sooner or later.

And I was instilled of this rather quickly as I proceeded to collect my baggage.

Since I chose to spend the next 14 days of Institutional quarantine in a Government institution thanks to my sister, I was directed to an “exclusive” waiting room.

Exhausted due to dehydration and lack of food.
Disconnected with the outside world.
Mild headache both due to internal and external factors.
Lost in current proceedings 
Apprehensions on what the near future holds.

I was frantically crying inside for any form of nourishment of sorts. Since it had been when the C21 was starting to gain momentum and attention, none of the food outlets were open, not even an automatic kiosks to purchase water bottles. And to add to the misery, I was basked inside a room with equally clueless individuals.

Being a naturally reserved person who kept his thoughts to himself, I didn’t utter a word for the next one hour. I silently observed the dormancy which occupied itself within every habitable space of this rather larky and dim lit excuse for a room. There was a constant murmur among acquainted folks, followed by wave of silence.

The governing authorities finally remembered our presence after escorting every other passenger from our flight to their bus rides heading to their respective hotels. They handed us special forms that need to be filled to get us C21 tested. And I let out a huge sigh of relief (not externally, but internally) celebrating too early.

While filling this form, I was brigaded by a single question. The response to which was conflicting to me, since I belonged to both sides of the coin.

I have always tried to be self-reliant, timid to approach anyone seeking help. Without the accessibility of the internet, I quibbled with my inner voice to formulate the question I could ask the person who was seated within the social distance validating vicinity.

To my absolute surprise, the person next to me responded promptly with a smile. (I could see her cheekbones stretch which I assumed to be a smile. Hard to guess with double mask and a face shield)

There was something so welcoming about her that I initiated conversation with her. I did most of the talking for the next two hours, given the fact that I haven’t had an in-person conversation ever since I landed in India and I was craving for one.

We became friends in very quick time. She told me all about her life in Maldives with her husband, her aspirations to do a MBA and how slow paced life had been there.

There was something so magical to hear someone narrate their lives with enthusiasm and a sparkle in their eyes.

I requested her to give me her phone to contact my family. She obliged readily and stayed by my side until the very end. After we were done with all the nonsensical formalities we were subjected to, in order to mint money from us. We parted our ways.
**
What was this formality you ask me?**

Glad you asked. There was an external lab/agency to perform a Swab test to sense the presence of C21 within us. After 6 hours of spending time in close vicinity of to all likely positive subjects, we were made to reconfirm our probability of turning into C21 suspects.

Again no. We were made to quarantine, comfortably riding our cabs on three times the regular fare.

My friend who kept me sane for the past two hours not only booked a cab for me. She made sure that I onboarded my cab safely and helped me load my luggage onto the car trunk.

And did I also tell you that she ran back and forth to spot my cab while I balanced by heavy luggage on wonky undersized trolley. What she told me next when I boarded the cab, was something which was etched in my memory.

A person I barely made a connection with, went all her way to make sure I reached safely and I sat there dumbfounded, overwhelmed by this kindness. I learned the power of selflessness and forming human connections on that very day.

All I could offer her before getting onto my cab was a packet of cookies I had purchased for my sister from Germany. She didn’t expect anything from me, and accepted this small token with a smile. I can never forget the cosiness I felt with her, like I was with my own sister.

We had exchanged numbers but I lost touch with her after a few days. Wherever she is right now, I wish her the best and cannot thank her enough for what she had done for me that day. On retrospection about the same, I believe that I am good at making friends, but not in maintaining them.

I reached my place of stay after 2 hours of cab ride. The cab driver sprouted about current events in Bengaluru along with a breather of how common folk were suffering from the proceedings. The cab service provider clutched 30% of the cab fare as their commission, and given the lockdown restricting movements, it has very hard for cab drivers to make ends meet.

I was able to spot my sister from a distance, waiting for me on her scooter. It has been more than a year since I had met her. I maintained my distance respecting the quarantine norms and the fear of not transmitting it to her if I carried any traces of C21. She gave me a sim card and few edibles as I marched toward my allocated room. The picture below was taken when I laid on my bed after having my dinner, more than twelve hours past my previous meal!

I was under the impression that exhaustion would have taken the better of me and I wouldn’t be able to spring up from my bed at least until late afternoon. Astonishingly, I was wide awake at 6am. Perhaps sleeping in an unfamiliar environment with thoughts constantly quibbling over minor concerns led to this. I had a hearty breakfast after which, I was informed that I couldn’t stay here anymore.

They had planned to turn this institution to a relief centre and just forgot to inform me when I settled in yesterday. Thankfully, my sister had a quick fix and I was shifted to another institution where I spent the next thirteen days. For the first week there, I didn’t have access to the Internet.

My only contact with the world out there was through a call with my family. My daily schedule was clearly monotonous: wake up, have food, read a few saved articles and watch Scrubs and then head to bed. In order to break this cycle and inspired by reading her works, I started writing my first post in Tex.

Writing the first one had such a domino effect. I wrote and rewrote the first three posts in quick time, organizing all the deliverables supplementing my post in different folders. All I needed now was internet for it to reach the public eye.

Within this enclosed space, there existed a television which was mounted onto the wall. I used the black screen to project various moments of my life, one at a time. I didn’t streamline electricity into this device to bring it to life with colours and stories illuminating or elucidating others’ lives but rather a object to focus and formulate my thoughts.

There were several moments where I sat with an empty mind, quite possibly discounting everything and anything happening around me. I interacted with nobody while I went to dine-in within a hall meant to serve food to all of us there, nor did I have any special requests to make my time comfortable there.

My writings were my best companion for the first week there apart from occasional few minute visits from my sister. Luckily, she brought some novels for me to indulge in, essentially escaping from my own inner voice.

The next week proceeded in much faster pace, thanks to the demands of beautifying my post with design system offered by WordPress. I also spend some time improving my application documents for my time was abundant but my will non-existent.

After these two weeks, I returned back home. I had changed considerably for the better or the worse. Only time will tell which of the two had been most likely.

Looking at the distance, you would hardly account for it to be present in Bengaluru.

I was heading to Oman to spend two months with my dad. Non-pandemic times, this would have been fairly straightforward. But my life has never been short of shortcomings or unrequited drama.

Events unrolled predictably until I landed in Oman. And then the “thrill” began.

By the predicable stance, I meant that my flight (“Oman Air”) landed late by an hour. It was an unpleasant prediction, given that they always keep their promise of being the most punctual airlines. But since it involves me, everything must unroll in disorderly manner.

As soon as I entered the terminal, disembarking the flight which carried us with little turbulence, I saw the horror unfold right before my eyes.

Queues as long as my lessons in life presented itself before my eyes. No one knew which queue lead to where, as there was no authority or placard as long as my sight could guide me.

Have you ever stood still at a single space coordinate and let time wade past for an hour or more?

My answer here is absolutely yes, without a spark of excitement. And to add to the turmoil, I didn’t have a sim card with me. Oman’s Airport had excellent Wi-Fi for those who had a sim card. Well, the authorities merely forgot to include inbound passengers who would not possess a sim card. Must have slipped their minds.

My dad was waiting at the other end unbeknownst to whether I had landed in the first place or not. Another one hour passed as slowly as it could possibly move. It felt like the whole world around me was in slow motion, and every step I took forward was spaced at twenty minutes, minimum.

Finally, two authorities in traditional attire glided past the amassed crowd. But, they weren’t here to catalyse the process but to be selective of whom they would help to end this misery. The authorities came to identify and escort the following target groups:

Of course, I didn’t belong to any of the above categories. What was more surprising was the fact that, any nationality which wasn’t predominant among the mass assembled there was considered foreign. Blatant stupidity if you ask me, we were all foreign to this country in the first place.

Your worth is measured against your nationality is a lesson I learned that day. I proceeded finally to the next serpentine queue which was directed towards immigration control.

Believe me when I say this, I haven’t seen anyone lazier than these bunch of authorities. I don’t want to be tased by them, so I will leave the rest to your imagination. What should have taken 45 minutes given the length of the queue, took two and half hours.

To add to the mix, they sat there in their comfortable, cozy chairs pointing fingers at us and having the time of their lives. Finally, my turn arrived and after a few seconds, I was finally free.

No, I wasn’t. Another gigantic line lead to RT-PCR test facility to detect the presence of C-21 following which I received a wristband to track my moments in this country. I had to sign an agreement to indicate that I will spend the next 7 days in insolation in a hotel. This whole ordeal took another 1.5 hours.

After all this, I finally collected my luggage and proceeded towards the exit. And there I could see my dad completely exhausted after waiting on me for the past 5.5 hours.

Wait a minute, this doesn’t make any sense. Why do I have to spend the next 7 days in quarantine in an expensive hotel if I could just stay at home with my dad. Believe me, it made no sense to me as well. But, this was the protocol we had to follow to enter and stay in this country.

Another seven days of isolation and after showing negative C21 results, I was allowed to return back home.

I remember the day, time of interview and exact time when I got to know of the results, exactly in my mind. It is etched in my memory.

The day was 31st March, 2021. My interview for the part-time position was at 8:30 am. Raksha, who worked previously for the advertised position had referred me for this position. Though I have had several interactions with Soundarya who was my interviewer, prior, it would be my first face to face interaction with her.

I didn’t sleep for a minute the previous night. I had no idea what was causing these jibbers or nervousness. This wasn’t certainly not my first interview, I had walked through many. Familiarity with the interviewer was strangely fear-inducing. When not in check, my overthinking capability compound infinitely.
**
I was completely convinced that I flopped this interview big time, just a minute after it ended. But surprisingly, I converted this position. First, I was completely baffled. I read the email several times. I couldn’t just believe it. **For me, the most important thing that day was a moment of realization that someone out there wanted to take a risk on me apart from my family. The money didn’t matter, what mattered was the trust bestowed on me.

I returned home after spending my time in quarantine. What was unknown to governing bodies of Oman is the fact that I was a stay-at-home kid for the next two months as well. I wasn’t house arrested, I just didn’t know anyone there apart from my dad.

What kept me company every day while I was there was my part-time work. I indulged in work whenever I found pockets of time. While I wasn’t working, I was spending time with my family.

It felt like things were returning to normalcy and I wasn’t my past self who was self-deprecating for everything unpleasant that had occurred to me.

Soundarya and my family have helped regain myself in ways I would have never imagined. I would always be grateful to them as they were my reliable sounding board. I wanted to end this series with the following quote.

I have changed for the better now. I am not perfect, but I am certainly happy with everything that has been happening around me now. I am now with people who understand, and care for me. Even though my circle has become extremely small set of friends, I am more than satisfied with what I have.

**My sincere hope is to leave this past behind, after carefully extracting the memorable bits and progressively moving forward in life. I have had the opportunity to work and learn from such amazing, loveable people.

I have had the fortune of finding such gems for quite some time now and I hope to continue to discover more as I lead through this journey of my life.**

Lastly, please, I have had enough quarantines to last a lifetime. Let me be, Universe. 🙏

If you managed to read this long and verbose ~3100 worded post, you certainly have the tenacity to read my short emails in the form of a newsletter supplementing my post. I send one every month, adding some fun bits which led to my post or give a sneak peak into my day to day life.