New words that should be added to our dictionaries in 2020:
Solitudifinia: The uneasy feeling of enjoying the quiet and solitude of social distancing (no traffic, no public transport, leisurely chai in the balcony), but also being hyper aware of your privilege and feeling somewhat guilty for being so comfortable because you know everyone is not as lucky.
Dispensia: The feeling that dawns on you every morning as you look out the window. The air is fresh, flowers are blooming, birds are chirping, animals have more space and nature is thriving. Swallowing the bittersweet truth that humans aren’t indispensable. In fact, far from it. Letting the humility of your smallness wash over you.
Difubility: Oscillating between fretting about an uncertain future and enjoying the peace of the current moment. As the number of cases mount, you swing from one feeling to another like a monkey in a forest. Contentment, trepidation, gratitude, anxiety, security, fear. Being in the now feels great, but what does tomorrow hold?
Treplosis: The sickly feeling that slowly creeps up on you because you can’t plan the next year, the next month, or even the next week. Knowing it could get easier, or it could suddenly get much, much worse. This feeling is often mixed with the fear of unknowingly passing on the virus to someone else. So you stay put, sometimes because of anxiety, other times because of exhaustion.
Photodrain: The ordeal of getting in and out of online meeting rooms and the impermanence of viewing your team members as apparitions on your screens. The sudden quietude after a group call gets over, when it dawns on you that you’re actually at home, sitting in your formal shirt and pyjama, and the laughter you were part of was only electronic. You sit back, stare at the ceiling, check your phone. It’s time for another meeting.
Trancitude: Watching your days, your life, and the entire world slow down. Sitting and staring out your window as if in a trance. Feeling your mind going absolutely numb because you’re incapable of wrapping your head around a phenomenon that can attack, disarm and displace every single human around the globe. So you sit. Enraptured by the limitations of your own comprehension. Blank. Silent. Numb.
Affelgia: Being forced to fall in love with simpler times. Resisting at first, and then slowly sliding in. Conversing with family members at length, looking for old photos and memorabilia stuck in nooks and crannies. Listening more. Thinking more. Getting acquainted with this newfound nothingness and rediscovering the meaning of home.
Hyposilation: The feeling when you’re convinced you have the virus. The anxiety is real. There’s always a scratch in your throat. It begins with denial, then fear, and as paranoia takes over, every single cough sounds like a death knell. You stay up at night sweating, and then feel relieved to think maybe the sweating will get rid of the fever you seem to think you have.
Vegatrap: The uneasy feeling of being boxed in. Even if all you did on a Sunday was sit in your shorts, stuff your face with chips and watch movies, the fact that the option of going out has been snatched away from you makes you feel like your home is getting smaller. You’re safe, you’re fine, but you’re itching to be outside. If only you could go meet your friends again. Have a drink. You sigh, take out your phone, and go back to the couch to vegetate again.
Pinerii: The deep longing to sit in an actual meeting room in office again only to feel people around you in their physicalities, observe their body language, get used to their idiosyncrasies, be part of their humanness and warmth. The yearning to sit in the cafeteria again, drum on the table, feel the energy of a group of friends as they crack a joke, describe an incident, narrate a story, share a feeling, and for one magical moment, you’re all part of the same fleeting, wondrous moment as co-workers, as friends, as humans.
Unisyne: The marvellous gravity of a force that has invariably connected humanity by an invisible thread. For the first time in our lives, we understand each other’s struggle, we reach out to help, we support and applaud everyone who’s doing their jobs away from the security of their homes. Symbolically, we’re all holding hands and are wishing for the same thing: for the infection to stop spreading, and for not having to think twice before unfolding our arms and going in for a bear hug.











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