She loses her temper very often nowadays. ‘Nothing surprising in the current circumstances,’ Nandini reasons. Her life has been reduced to a saga of uninterrupted monotony, from morning to night, without rest, until she collapses like a log into the double bed, more than half of which is always occupied by Barun, the her husband. Well, she doesn’t mind working, she has always been an active and agile person who preferred to keep busy; in fact, she hated idleness. However, in this case, they mercilessly deprive her of her privacy: her private moments were always important in her life. Nandini finds himself unable to shake the strong sense of homesickness from her. Nostalgia? What the hell! It was only four months ago, when her life was going on as usual.

Since his marriage some twenty years ago, he had settled into a fixed daily routine. She would get out of bed early, prepare tea and meals, watch Barun go to the office with the ever-present tiffin box, eat breakfast, then welcome the maid for housekeeping while chatting with her carefree and relaxed; after the maid left her, he would have the rest of the day to relax, make phone calls to her parents, relatives or friends until her husband joined at around 7pm. Every day except holidays and Sundays when time spent together or outings seemed heavenly. The arrival of children, first the daughter after two years of marriage and then the son two years apart, made his routing tighter, but still gave him the private moments he loved so much. He had a bachelor’s degree, but he never really wanted a job, taking care of his home being the most important task. And that had been the story of her life as a housewife until four months ago.

Now everything has changed. Everyone in the family stayed home: The children took up most of Nandini’s one-bedroom, living room, and kitchen foyer with their smartphones, often requiring dead silence for their online classes; Baurn lay in bed watching the news on television as if he were the only one on earth who needed to be aware of world events and the maid would not come. Nandini would remain mostly confined to the humid kitchen of hers cooking and cooking, she was surprised that everyone seemed to be ravenously hungry at all times despite the long inactivity, and worse, would want newer and newer dishes to be prepared. The nature of Barun’s work meant that working from home was minimal and whenever she sat in front of her desk in her bedroom, she complained more about the children monopolizing the WIFI network service than about work. .

At first, Nandini took to his routine as a new natural normal, but slowly and steadily he grew bored and impatient. How could he go on like this: getting up early in the morning to clean the house before everyone woke up; then he made breakfast, first for his children and then for Barun, who got up from the bed in an infuriatingly leisurely manner; then he would start preparing for lunch, unable to combine cooking for the evening as well, since the exquisite connoisseurs did not want stale food for any meal; he would hardly manage to take a nap, since Barun’s late-rising chatter never ceased; then afternoon tea time for everyone preferably with a hot snack and by the time she felt a bit free it was time to make dinner, and when finally past midnight she fell to bed like a log the tv was still on us.

All the essentials made it home, meaning to the society lobby from where they were to be picked up, a job Barun generously did, delivered from online booking or orders from the local grocery store. He often encouraged Barun to go out and buy fresh vegetables and fruits from the vendors who served until 7 pm. But he did not budget: he considered himself an old man even though he was not yet fifty and that is why he did not take risks, that is why he himself forbade the children to go out too.

Over the days, the suffocation became unbearable for Nandini and now she was really desperate. Her petty fights with her husband began to turn violent, drawing tremendous disapproval and anger from the children. And then she had an idea. It was true that she found that the bananas delivered online were not entirely fresh and barely lasted two days, as everyone gobbled down two or three bananas every morning. She tried her banana idea and said to Barun:

“Look Barun! This continuous stay at home without physical activity is not good for you, it will slowly lower your immunity and finally when everything returns to normal, you will be more likely to get infected the moment you go out. These are not my words, but the words of the experts, you know. You must do something to increase your immunity. I’m never free dancing around the house most of the day, so I don’t need to exercise… look, now night walks. are allowed, and you can see how bad bananas are. You all love bananas! So, go out at night, take a walk, sit in the garden and buy fresh bananas from the local vendor, just a little far from our social complex. .please…
It worked to his great relief. Every other day she gave him the free moments she so badly needed in her bed, gratefully alone and in private. No matter how long, just fifteen minutes of privacy did wonders for her distraught self. Of course, she never stopped thanking God for keeping them safe and relatively better than many others because Barun still had his monthly salary. Nandini, a classic housewife, wished the best for everyone in her family and for the entire country and the world…