What will the world be like when all this is over?
Will we become too used to living in isolation?
More often than I care to admit, I think that hell is other people.
Despite my initial misgivings, I have taken to working from home and isolating myself. This arrangement is perfect for an introvert like me. I find I can focus so much better on work. There is clarity of thought, which eludes me in an office that is always buzzing.
I keep in touch with my friends and colleagues through text messages and phone calls. Our Monday story meetings are now on Zoom.
But I miss eating with friends. WhatsApp video calls are not quite the same, although they cheer me up to no end. I miss sprawling on comfortable couches and slouching at dining tables, jawing on all night with them about everything and nothing.
Takeout and delivery food options abound. But I miss being in my favourite restaurants.
I miss sitting in Oshino, a new sushi-ya at the Raffles Hotel, and taking a piece of sushi from chef Koichiro Oshino's hand and eating it straightaway. I miss watching the sun set over Orchard Road from my perch at the bar counter of Luke's at The Heeren, sipping a dirty martini and slurping oysters. Heck, I miss queueing up for lei cha fan at Hakka Lou in Commonwealth, then sitting down and drowning the rice in that complex-tasting, bright green soup and savouring the herbs, love and care that have gone into making a thunderously good dish.
Will we become more creative and daring?
At a time when there is so much to lose - life, livelihood, sanity - will we also realise that there is absolutely nothing to lose by being bold, going against the grain and doing everything we need to do, just to fight another day?
I look at all the restaurants that have pivoted to deliveries and takeaways because dining in is now impossible and illegal.
There are teething problems, sure. But they are finding creative ways to keep afloat, to get their food to your doorstep with minimum fuss. This would have been too difficult just a few months ago. One chef tells me, as he retools his business: "I will go down fighting."
So will I.
Will we be more empathetic?
The coronavirus pandemic has wrought so much destruction. I think of the people I know who have been affected by it. E cleans my home but cannot do so during the circuit breaker month. What will she live on? S, who tends to my follicles, is Malaysian and has a four-month-old baby her mother is caring for. She can't work, but can't go home either. I hope she makes it back in time for her child's first birthday. Also my friends in various fields, who are struggling and grappling with changes that come at warp speed.
There is a chance that we might emerge from this kinder, judging from the outpouring of support - in kind, and not just with lip service - for the people worst hit by this pandemic; ground-up initiatives to help front-line medical workers, and people who have lost their jobs and need a helping hand and a meal, and people whose businesses are in danger of dying.
May that instinct to help our fellow man become even stronger.
Will we take better care of ourselves?
I see many new faces on my morning walks. Thank goodness we can still exercise in parks.
From news websites and social media, it seems like people all over the world are seeking comfort.
Why else is everyone baking banana bread and shoving chickens in the oven to roast and having it with mashed potatoes?
When the world makes no sense, we find comfort in the familiar.
But at some point, we are going to have to get up off the couch and tear ourselves away from the instant noodles. Realise that the best way to fight this virus, and whatever others that are lurking out there, is to be healthy. We will have to wrestle those chronic conditions under control, think hard about what we eat, move a lot more, deal better with stress.
Will we be content with less?
When so many freedoms we used to enjoy are taken away - temporarily - do we sit around and mope?
We could take the opportunity to revel in simpler things. Like being home with family, or sending a care package or a cheerful text to a friend who needs a lift. Like tending to those neglected house plants. Like reorganising various parts of our homes. Like reading that book we have been trying to find time for. Like listening to our favourite music. We do not have to fill our lives with mindless busyness, even after the pandemic.
We can carve out some time to love ourselves a little more.
What a pity it would be if the pandemic results only in our becoming kiasu and kiasi. That is a horrific combination. Being afraid to lose and afraid to die is no way to live.
The pandemic's loud, honking message to me is that life is fragile.
The world can change in an instant. I cannot afford to procrastinate or hesitate. Not if I want to live with no regrets.
What will the world be like when all this is over?
I cannot wait to find out.
