And the world was changing

It seemed like I had stepped into a boot camp for soldiers about to set off for war. The stage was set with military precision for the adventurers just back from their travels across rural Maharashtra in public buses and trains.

The kids who came back in just 10 days, landed in a different world surrounded by masks men and women.

Expecting to run off to their ‘houses’ and exchange stories of their adventures with the rest of the school, gobble down the familiar grub in the dining hall and work out the cramps of their long journey with a rowdy game of basketball, they were under arrest. Sequestered in guest houses, they were not allowed to meet anyone else in the school and were allowed one call home.

Like the other parents, I was waiting for the call, excited to hear her news, already practicing the argument to get her home at the earliest.
“The school says you can come home any day after 11^th. Shall I come on 13^th?”
“Can you please come on 11^th?”

The world was changing indeed.

The school, which always welcomed all visitors like family had firmly roped off the entry to restrict visitors to the guest house. Although they had made all arrangements to make us comfortable the unprecedented arrangements that minimalized all contact and ensured that we left as quickly as possible, meant driving back with a sense of disquiet.

I had been to the medical shop yesterday. There had been so many other people there. Wouldn’t the people behind the counters be likely spreaders?

I was afraid to hug my daughter.

What else was going to change?