Isolation Orders - A New Year story

Last week as the world entered a new year, I began it by testing positive for coronavirus. Originally what had been planned as a North American new year celebration, was commemorated in air, as I watched my ANA aircraft fly over stunning ice sheets over the Bering Sea. I landed in Singapore, 27 hours later, having skipped 2 January altogether from my life, in the early hours of 3 January. Upon being tested, the following day, my results came back positive, and Singapore's Ministry of Health sent me a formal Isolation Order. The serious looking envelope had my name on it, and its insides read:

'In exercise of his powers, under Section 15(1) of the Act, the Director has ordered you to be detained and isolated at [address] from 3/1/2022 until 12/1/2022 at 1200H ("isolation period"), in accordance with this Order.'

As I write this, I emerge from my isolation, a healthy, covid negative person, with some realisations that might offer help to those of us serving quarantine:

1. Abandon the routine, before the routine abandons you: When the isolation began, I decided to make a daily intentions list, in order to feel a sense of control on my day. Seemed harmless, up until nightfall of the first day. I had managed to get through half the items on my list, but the other half stared at me with disdain. Ordinarily, I would take a break from my list, and go for a bike, or a run, or Netflix. Other times, I would check WhatsApp or make a call. In that one day of isolation, I had already taken my more than fair share of Netflix, WhatsApp and Instagram, so much so, these applications made me emetic at some point. The attempt to continue making more lists only fell flat, and I was left with a feeling of decision paralysis by the fourth day. It took a small dose of conciliation on the part of my friend to remind me, "You're covid positive and serving quarantine. Please chill." I am able to write this post, precisely because I did try to 'chill' or take a breather.
2. Wake up before the world does, and sleep before it does too: Not accounting the jetlag, I made it a point to wake up as early as 6 am, in order to watch the sky lighten and see light flood my room. This also meant that I was going to bed as early as 9.30 pm, much before Singapore's streets and MRT trains do. With the natural light being the only reminder that the day's beginning or coming to a close, I used it to ensure my body felt at ease with it. Setting my body clock to witness the light and fall asleep before the world, did offer some sense of control over my days and nights.
3. Call up people that you intend to but never end up doing: Being in isolation means you have your energies focused on doing one task at a time. The oven timer isn't set off, the washing machine does not need to be loaded, and no, you do not have to answer the door. Which reinstates the need to do one thing at a time, and I decided to catch up with people that I had not spoken to in ages. This included one of my mentors, a long-lost friend, a regular friend, and my cousins who are often too occupied with their lives and kids. Being available at any given time, to speak with these folks, offered me a refreshing breeze away from the confinement. I could focus on the conversation, discuss life plans, joys and tragedies, without the worry of having upset my calendar for other to-do-items.

While I'm successfully out of the isolation, none of this takes away the pain of not being able to reunite with my brother (whom I had planned to see after two+ years), but it does offer wisdom and consolation. The experience reminds me of David Whyte’s meditation on the word ‘maturity’. He writes, “Maturity is the ability to live fully and equally in multiple contexts, most especially the ability, despite our many griefs and losses, to courageously inhabit the past, the present and the future all at once.”

The isolation also offered me some quiet moments of sincere anxiety on the choices I've made so far and those I plan to make ahead, and for that I am grateful. Beyond all the trepidation, there is a life to be lived, courage to be built, love to be given and felt, dance to be learnt, music to be listened, mistakes to be made, lessons to be learnt, and wisdom to be acquired.  

Happy 2022, everyone. ✨

Mariyam Haider is a researcher-writer, spoken word artist, and media consultant based in Singapore. She has worked with authors James Crabtree and Suchitra Vijayan on their non-fiction bestsellers. A journalist by training, Mariyam is the producer and host of ‘Main Bhi Muslim’ podcast and her writings have been published in Asian Review of Books, Centre for Feminist Foreign Policy, Livemint among others.