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 “We don't heal in isolation, but in community.” 
― S. Kelley Harrell, Gift of the Dreamtime - Reader's Companion

 

This post is dedicated to Julia, my dear friend, who encouraged me to write on the topic. Thank you, Julia <3 

Each step seemed like scaling a wall with no handholds to grip on to. My chest tightened as my heart raced, and my breath was so deep that I could hear it filling my ears with deafening pain. After a long and arduous walk down my apartment staircase, I reached the adjacent park. A few masked strangers were out and about, engrossed in their training routines. They moved cautiously, adjusting their masks as they attempted to maintain a safe distance. Through the thin slit between my cap and face mask, I quickly scanned the area – ‘Nobody is watching me. Nobody is approaching me. I am OK. I will make it through this hour-long run’.
 
That’s me in my head. Never before have I felt this socially anxious and fearful. 
 
We’ve been forced to be asocial for almost two years now, at least physically. Consequently, many people find in-person social contacts uncomfortable — it’s as if we will have to relearn how to be around another human being. While the economic concerns and physical and emotional wellness have attracted more attention, I wonder how long-lasting the undeniable negative consequences will be on our social health and wellbeing? 
 
Following the recovery of my social anxiety episode at the park, I talked to a few friends about it. I was not surprised to learn that they, too, felt the same way. As Melbourne, the most liveable locked-down city in the world, sets to open up, we experience an oxymoron of emotions. While we celebrate excitedly, getting back into society stirs up fear. 
 
When the pandemic caught the world off-guard, governments imposed draconian restrictions as people found themselves pushed to adhere to new norms. The measures sent a powerful psychological message about the dread of others, as well as the notion that others might be carriers of lethal viruses and life-threatening illnesses. This led to widespread fear and even paranoia. 
 
The human race has built its foundation on social engagement and sharing emotional and physical space with others. Think of a sporting event where spectators experience the rise and fall of emotions simultaneously. It significantly amplifies your experience and reinforces the notion that you’re something larger than yourself. Whether at work, at restaurants, or in public places, physical encounters between individuals have long been a part of our culture. We are used to working in teams, travelling to new locations, and meeting and becoming acquainted with new people. As we travel through life, a large part of what satisfies us are the connections we form with other people, and these bonds are often manifested via physical encounters.
 
Social distancing poses the risks of increased social rejection, impersonality, individuality, and a loss of community. This illustrates the degree to which humans and their social environments are inextricably linked. Social participations contribute to society’s cohesiveness and while no one expects societies to fall apart due to lockdowns, it is critical to recognise and address the detrimental implications on our communities. Social connections are a basic human need, and social isolation impedes it, affecting our social health in the process. It is unarguable that physical separation may be necessary at times. However, the social aspects of our relationships must be reinforced to maintain our friendships and relationships. While COVID-19 spreads readily via human interaction, it is critical to remember that the virus, not people, is our adversary.
 
Let’s relearn to connect – let’s do it together!

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As the novel coronavirus parades around the world, it presents the dystopian picture of Hollywood apocalyptic movies that have entertained us for years —  a distorted bunch of panic buyers raking faces of one another to claim the last loaf of bread on the shelf (or even a roll of toilet paper), speakers playing warning messages on deserted streets, men walking in biohazard suits taking temperatures at building entrances, emptied isles in the stores and the lurking fear in every pair of eyes that you catch behind those masked faces.

As the situation unfolds, it permeates our lifestyles – from the way we work, to the way we spend and purchase (and possibly hoard), to the supposedly ordinary things we have long taken for granted, such as being able to step out of our homes every morning and socializing fearlessly.

What our intensive daily routine entails today was inconceivable just a few weeks ago – washing hands, using hand sanitizers, opening the windows, sanitizing knobs and faucets, repeating washing and sanitizing hands…and the endless discussions on how and when it all started, the conspiracy theories, the recent stats, the speculations around when and how it is likely to end, and whatnot.

One day (let’s hope soon) when all this is a closed book and we turn to look back at this point in time, the sheer ubiquity of the situation will be its defining attribute. We will talk about this in the past tense - when the world ‘was’ brought to its knees by an organism invisible to the naked eye – we will all say. That will be the time when we’ll begin to enjoy the little things; things that we shirked because we thought, in our arrogance and ignorance, that they would continue to be.

Now, as every life in every country under the sun is on hold, our hearts are in our throats, suffocating with fears. The fear of a novel disease, the plague of our times! The fear of uncertainty about our future and the fear of how all this would change our world forever.

When this is all done and dusted, maybe we would have been changed forever – we will feel differently about a casual visit to our favourite café or beach; studying on campus with our classmates; enjoying a movie at the cinema; or watching sports at the stadium…When this is all behind us, maybe we will change the way we take things for granted. Maybe! ...will we?

As the world comes to a standstill, cities that were once full of life become an epitome of ghost-towns. The whole world now knows what it feels to lose freedom, as massive restrictions rule our lives – with lockdowns and border closures… If everything happens for a reason, what could be the reason behind this unforeseen global crisis?

There is one unlikely beneficiary of the pandemic – and that is the Earth. Our beloved planet that we have taken for granted for too long now. With all the restrictions put on our lives, levels of pollution have incredibly decreased. Does Mother Nature smile as we all cry for help? Have the tables turned?

We learn that human race is fragile, vulnerable to diseases and chaos.  The far-fetched ideas about the great world economy and our planet were a product of our misplaced beliefs. It takes one virus to rearrange our lives, immobilize those systems we perceived to have been set in stone and hinder social interactions that we have always taken for granted.

The conclusion to be drawn is that in a globalised world, our lives are so interconnected that the notion of viewing ourselves as non-integrated is false consciousness. This is a reminder that it has always been like this – we are like links of the chain in the grand scheme of universal events. Now as we self-isolate and enter quarantine – all earth dwellers – we realize we are tightly linked. It has taken a virus to teach us that. Maybe that is how humans learn, slowly and painfully.

We realize today by the threat of contagion, that each one of us is valuable – and ‘equally’ so – that we sink or swim together. 
Each individual. 
Every country. 
We are all in this together. 

Let's hope that when this settles down and life goes back to normal (...as we once knew), the lessons learned are not forgotten.
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Photo: My very colourful desk.

Preface: G’day, readers! You all know me well enough to know that spring is when I come alive (I was born in the springtime). As I look out the window, I can’t help but breathe in the spring air (the Aussie springtime) and feel it fill my lungs with hope and new direction. I think my advice to you all is to find your inner spring; find the feeling that lets you renew yourself and take a fresh look at your own life. 

I have had the longest writer’s block ever, so a friend wrote the above paragraph as a way to inspire me. And it honestly helped. Thanks, Benedict. 

Every fairy tale I ever read as a child began with ‘once upon a time’, so let’s start with that…

Once upon a time, when I was six years of age (or maybe even younger), I clearly remember owning a storybook, which was based on farm animals in Australia. The cover of the book had an image of goats and sheep grazing in green meadows with a little brown wooden fence surrounding the vast greenery. As a little girl, the image was stuck in my head. Every time I heard ‘Australia’, there it was the cover of the storybook popping into my little head. That was all Australia was for me. The down under, the far off land. And it remained so for a very long period of time. 

Green meadows. Cows. Sheep. This. And nothing else… Little did I know how that picture would change forever. 

That green Australia is now a beautiful collage of colours. A bright blue sky over the rainbow landscape with specks of magenta, pink, violet and scarlet. It has many colours, many layers... fragrances, people, sounds, memories, hopes, tastes, millions and trillions of images…my life for exactly six hundred and ninety-five days, as of today.

The room that felt cold like ice on my first night in Melbourne, now feels like sunshine, beaming with warmth of my friends, our laughter together, my desires, achievements and hopes, my safe space for introspection, my growth in this beautiful country… 

I met ‘strangers’, born in different countries, who grew up speaking different tongues, and worshiping a different God (or gods)… I proudly call them my friends now. Some of my friends are from countries I did not even know existed on the world map. I know that reflects bad on me (and my geography) but who cares? I have learned to be okay with judgments, I have learned to be confident in who I am, and to embrace my weaknesses and to be myself - that’s Australia for me. 

‘Hey, can you confirm that what we have ordered today does not use any pork or alcohol as ingredients. Please, make sure no pork or alcohol on the table!’ – this is a common phrase all my friends say while ordering food at the restaurants. I do not demand that, I do not remind them. They do it out of respect and love for me. How can I not feel at home with them? 

I have learned lessons of tolerance, acceptance and equality. What makes people good or bad is their attitude, their behaviour and their actions. It is not where they come from, their beliefs or their status and profession. I have learned to see every person as an ‘individual’. It has freed me from my prejudices and biases. It has helped me gain a better understanding of the people and has increased my empathy. The world is bigger than we think. I now have a greater appreciation for other cultures as well as my own. 

My independence and self-sufficiency has led me to explore opportunities to develop and learn skills I wanted to for a long time but just didn’t do it. It is as if there was a rebirth within me. And the new spirit loves challenges and adventures, and is more open and zestful. This is the new Australia for me. 

In my post from February 2018 I wrote that Australia will never be home and that it was OK because I was not really looking for one, I already had one. Hah! What did I know back then? Australia feels like home. Whether my temporary or permanent place of residence, doesn’t matter. Home is where you can be yourself. Australia fits that definition for me. Australia is home. Maybe second home, but, hey, why do I have to label? It is home. Just home. Colourful and vibrant. 

To all my absolutely amazing, warm and kind friends in Australia who changed that childhood image of the country forever… and made this my happily ever after experience! Thanks, mates! 

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“Ring the bells that still can ring 
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.”
― Leonard Cohen


I met a friend for coffee the other day and while we updated each other on our lives and routines, we both realized (not instantly, though) how tough we have made everything for ourselves by being the ‘perfectionists’ we so pride ourselves on. The best thing coming out of the discussion was our acute self-awareness and the fact that it inspired this post! 

This post is, therefore, dedicated to all those readers who understand the joys and struggles of being perfectionists – we are never content with anything, and constantly seek to improve and perfect everything we touch, hear or see. Ahhh!  

I love ‘haphazardly’ putting everything back to its original position every chance I get. This habit has become so intense that if the shadow of a piece of porcelain makes a 45-degree angle against incoming rays of light, and someone were to move it from its original position, I would begin a pointless struggle to restore the 45-degree angle. Any visitors to my ever-so-freshly cleaned apartment would be hard-pressed to find a bowl out of place or even a small cluster of leftover breadcrumbs on the counter. It’s because I cannot sleep with the knowledge that I will have to wake up to coarse bread crumbs in the kitchen. *yuck*

There is this funny story – which you may not find as funny – that I always like to tell friends who often see my awkward behaviour unfold. It’s about the one time I was watching a movie, cosily snuck on my couch, absorbed into the fine details of the movie – the name of which currently slips my not-so-perfect memory – until my gaze shifted to a sloppy blanket staring right into my face. I can’t describe the feeling. It was a mix of disappointment, anticipation, and anger. Disappointment because I clearly remember folding the blanket several times to make it into a small square. Flattening the crease so it evenly reflects waves of light. And positioning it in parallel (note parallel) to the bed. The blanket looked like someone wrestled with it! (Notice my exaggeration) It was a disaster and I sprung into action to restore normality to my weird life.  Anticipation because I longed to see it once more, and anger because it dared to show itself!

This story doesn’t get as many giggles as I would hope to. What follows are intermittent bursts of chuckles, forced out only to dispel the awkwardness. What made things worse was a strand of hair on one of the listners' face that stood out because it was 2 millimetres longer than others. Least to say, I pointed it out. Yes, I like to brag about my ability to find perfection in the most hopeless of cases…Wearing it as a badge of honour, sometimes I rub it in my friends’ faces that I have higher standards than them. But the truth is that I seek perfection in a world that is simply not perfect. 

The above story applies to every little thing that the typical perfectionists venture upon doing in their lives. Spending nonstop hours of obsessing over perfecting things by eliminating those little hard-to-find devilish errors and imperfections that would keep us from achieving perfect grades on class tests, top-notch reviews from clients or bosses, and whatnot. While this maybe desirable and enviable in some ways, we often put too much pressure on ourselves, stress over things (even when they are out of our control), harshly judge our own selves...all in the attempt to find perfection in the imperfect world – not a perfect thing to do at all!  

The truth is: We need to change ourselves. Our obsession to make the world conform to our ‘definition’ of perfection is an uphill battle that we always end up losing. This unnecessary demand for perfection is a tremendous strain on our resources. We need to accept that, uncleanliness, disorder, and unkemptness aren’t necessarily vices, but they are in fact a part of the universe. And imperfection in ‘everything’ is, should and must be acceptable. The entire existence of the universe rests on the chaos theory which postulates that the universe tends toward high entropy, also known as the second law of thermodynamics. Before I trail off into philosophical and cosmic tales about perfection and how the universe seeks disorder, I must come to terms with my perception of disorderliness despite my blatant distaste toward it. Maybe then I will have good stories to tell my friends instead of blankets that seemingly come undone on their own. 

In fact, in the recesses of my mind, I know that when I went back to fold the blanket, there was this one speck of fur poking out, beckoning me over. But I deliberately ignored it, pretending I didn’t see it. Because acknowledging it would have only resulted in yet another sporadic fit of rage and I might just end up wasting the entire night on it.

Dô* to the beauty of imperfections in the world! 



Dô: Pronounced as 'Yo'; means ‘Cheers’ in Vietnamese (Learned that very recently) 

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“Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere.”
― The Nomad: The Diaries of Isabelle Eberhardt


I flew from Melbourne to Doha on a 15-hour long flight (phew!). It left me jet lagged, heavy-eyed, and disheveled. My connecting flight wound up having a 14-hour layover, after which I was bound to take another 4-hour flight to Islamabad. Counting my total transit time in your head? 33 hours! Yes. Crazy. Insane. However, everything in between was simply magical, absolutely pleasurable!

While generally considered to be nothing short of a malediction, a long layover can actually be a sweetener. We all dread the idea of sitting around the airport for hours – how uneventful and insipid - but turning that layover into a mini vacation can prove to be a delightful experience. With 14 hours on the ground, I had roughly about eight hours to explore the city (and to stretch my legs). I only got a taste of what Doha had to offer, but it was just enough to make me want to go back. This wasn’t preplanned – and I’m not the one known for being spontaneous or adventurous but I guess that is all about to change soon.

So, I decided to knock my socks off! Not literally, though. Got my transit visa approved, checked into a hotel, dumped my hand carry there, and booked a city tour with the hotel services. Overjoyed with the excitement of exploring a new city, a new country, while still dog-tired, I embarked on an adventure!

Being (somewhat) an art aficionado, my first stop was at the Islamic Museum of Art, the signature of Doha. The first thing I noticed as I entered the building was the magnificent large window looking out over Doha bay. Spending a year in Melbourne has somewhat westernized me (to some extent), so in a country that is presumably guided by Islamic or unfamiliar laws, I was petrified to do even the most normal things a tourist would do in fear of offending anyone (however, I later realized my fear was unfounded). You cannot imagine how thrilled I was when I spotted a white man that I comfortably approached to take a photo of me with the grand window in the background. I felt I could relate to a white man more than those Muslims strolling around in thawbs. Weird, I know.



Walking through this building, which is well known for the largest collection of Islamic art than any other museum in the world gave me a different view of cultural heritage and religion. Though from the name one might assume the museum is about Islam but you’ll be gratified to know that it also contains non-religious, Arabic, Asian and African art.

Doha, a cosmopolitan, modern city, is mostly man-made (you’ll hardly see anything ‘natural’ other than the sky over your head) with its skyline dominated by uniquely designed skyscrapers, however, the wonderland isn't short of green parks and spaces. My next visit was to Al Dafna Park; a seaside district which gives the park an astounding beach view. It was around 3 pm and the place was over-brimmed with women and children. Women, dressed up in traditional clothes, occupied benches and sat on the grass in small groups while they chatted in hushed ‘Arabic’ tones. Thanks to the ocean breeze; children were flying kites filling the sky with colors. I reckon they were on a school trip.

The restless shopaholic in me then magnetically pulled me towards Souq Waqif - a traditional, and probably the oldest market in Doha. The moment I rested my eyes on it, it transported me to the life and times of Disney’s Aladdin and Princess Jasmine. The ambience at this mud-coated iconic spot gives both locals and tourists a true feel of Arabic environment and a glimpse of past and a quainter Doha. It is a one-stop market where I found myself freely interacting with Qatari culture. From traditional food and souvenirs to diamonds, utensils, spices, sweets, rugs, and textiles a walk through the souq gives you an opportunity to explore hidden gems that are yet to be discovered. I even witnessed camels, birds and horses being bought and sold. Fascinating! Another interesting observation – photos of the king adorned most products, store walls and windows. Hail the king!


My next destination was Katara Cultural Village - located between the Pearl and West Bay on the eastern coast, it is a breath-taking spot of history and heritage. Although fairly new, and some of it is still under construction, yet it creates a beautiful feel of a small Arabic settlement. A young Sudanese driver gave me a free ride around the village in his neat little white buggy. During my brief interaction with him, he was able to fill me in with his life story. I took my time to appreciate the beauty of the sculptures artistically positioned between the amphitheater and the beach. There was also a considerably small but beautiful replica of the Blue Mosque of Turkey, and many other well known buildings and structures.




From a fascinating culture to awe-inspiring architecture, it’s a foregone conclusion that Doha is one of the best destinations in the gulf that would get any tourist electrified (no matter how long their flight was). The best thing about the city has to be its multiculturalism. In those few hours, I was able to interact with people from across the globe. Despite Qatar being an Islamic state, I observed that they show great cultural tolerance towards non-Muslims. Most local women were clad in abayas and burqas, while many foreigners could be seen wearing their regular clothes. No men were found ogling, no eyes were found wandering – I noticed! Maybe just a pair of my own!

It was an exhilarating experience that truly lifted my spirits. I do agree that these short trips may not be an ideal way of traveling to every city on your bucket list but seeing it as a bonus trip can often make it worth the added time. So I would suggest you to never miss the boat (or/and the plane)!
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About me



Civil Services of Pakistan (the IRS) | PhD Candidate Monash University | natural healer | thinker & feeler | lover of nature and art | yogini | neat freak | coffee addict | étudiante de Française | beginner violinist

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Amna's bookshelf: read

To Kill a Mockingbird
it was amazing
To Kill a Mockingbird
by Harper Lee
Animal Farm
did not like it
Animal Farm
by George Orwell
Of Mice and Men
it was ok
Of Mice and Men
by John Steinbeck
The Alchemist
it was amazing
The Alchemist
by Paulo Coelho
Me Talk Pretty One Day
it was amazing
Me Talk Pretty One Day
by David Sedaris

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