Uprooted from a place that I love and planted back where I came from

C      O      R      O      N      A      V      I       R      U      S

S     U     R     I     V     A     N     O     R     O     C

That’s all we hear these days.

Who knew that the next time I’ll be able to write I’ll be sitting in my 
lounge in Karachi, Pakistan,
and not in my 
room in Goodenough College in London, U.K. 

Things have so dramatically changed in the last two weeks, it seems like a lifetime ago when I wrote my last post in my critical journal for my MFA class at The Cass. At that point, my worries were based on completing the requirements of my art education, furthering my practice, balancing studies and play, being anxious about how quickly my time in London was passing and how I didn’t want it to end so soon.

Then the unthinkable happened. As the Coronavirus pandemic spread rapidly in the UK after hitting China, Iran and Italy, hard, we all had to make tough choices. Countries closed borders and went into lockdown, people left for their home countries- some temporarily and others permanently- and for students and people abroad, some difficult and extremely brief goodbyes were said, not knowing when they would get to see each other again. To date, the virus is spreading at an exponential rate with hospitals flooded with the sick, and with many thousands expected to get infected. The prospect of death is all around. 

Exactly a week ago at night, I was watching Notting Hill with my bestie Shruti in her room at our accommodation in London. I didn’t know that a few hours later I’d be on a plane back home. As I left, I said teary goodbyes to my friends (from afar), and goodbye to the place I love so dearly for its beauty and hustle-bustle. But London looked desolate and apocalyptic. 

Daily, I get updates from my friends stuck in London who cannot go back to their home countries. My accommodation is trying hard to accommodate the people there but are sending warning emails stating they’re not sure how long their supplies will last. Leaders all over the world are telling people to make sensible choices and prepare for the worst.

If you look outside, you'll see that the world is frozen.

Detail from Hieronymous Bosch's Garden of Earthly Delights. I've included this piece because I believe it encapsulates how strange the world feels today; almost surreal, eerie, unpredictable, yet with a glimmer of hope. The contrast is that people are inside their homes instead of out in the open.

It is not easy to make work in such a mental state, though I am physically well and glad to be home with my family. 

I believe my work will take a turn in terms of content, keeping in consideration this pandemic that has gripped the world. I could only bring a few of my art tools back home since I had limited luggage space and only 1.5 hours to pack, so I brought my watercolours, brushes, cutters and a few new papers that I’m wanting to test. I was happily experimenting with laser cutting back in London, but that is not possible at this time, so I will leave it for later. Maybe I’ll make some drawings for future experimentation with laser cutting, but for now, I’d like to continue with the little pieces I was making back at The Cass. The content will develop, though, perhaps as a response to today’s Covid-19 stricken world.

The world can change in the blink of an eye. I think it is being temporarily saved from a bigger catastrophe; perhaps that of imminent and major climate change that could wipe us out as a species. This looks like a punishment, but it’s a blessing, a pause.

Gratitude.