Broomstick elbow, now that did sound a little odd, even to me. Let me start again, Sachin Tendulkar..there there , now I have your attention and can almost see that smile broadening on your faces. Everyone must have guessed what is coming next…Tennis elbow ! ‘The Tendulkar elbow’ could have easily been a synonym to this infliction which affects many who have never held a racquet or a bat of any kind. I feel that there is a certain elitist stigma attached to the name Tennis elbow or golfers elbow. Why do I say this ? Well, for a minute imagine an ailment being called the ” Jharu elbow” or in a more stylized way the “broomstick elbow”. No, it will not be correct, the ailment will almost lose its identity. To come to my story, I got inflicted with tennis elbow (epicondylitis) a few weeks back and yes, it was caused with the excessive use of the racquet…called Jharu . Now every pro has a con, the con in this situation is that my right hand is in pain and has become almost non functional , and the pro is that my left hand has been suddenly promoted from being a supporting actor to a lead actor ; so much so that I am close to calling myself ambidextrous very soon. In fact am typing away with perfect ease ( not really ) with my left. But there will be no leftist inclination or right wing fascination in my writing . My left supports my right and vice versa in this condition of severe physical discomfort and lock down challenges.

With every passing day of lock down each of us are waiting eagerly for something or the other we would like to have back in our life. I am conflicted. My wish is so unimportant in the larger scheme of things but still with one non functional hand I really want my house help to come back to work. Her absence has made me appreciate her contributions in my house more than ever before. I want Kanta Bai / Sabita mashi back in my life. I wonder if I have ever heard any of my domestic helps ever getting tennis elbow, but surely they do much more physical labor than me. All the years of weight training in the gym had definitely not trained me for this, the broomstick enigma. Along with other house hold chores I have started doing a few dance steps on a daily basis. Not the tango or salsa type, the steps to my dance are easy, all it requires is a wet mop under my feet and I glide along the floor from room to room , some may call it mopping, but I call it my mop- dance. Whether the floor is shining or I am getting better at mop- dance is quite debatable.

A larger debate is knocking my mind. After the lock down is over, once we start returning to our new- normal, can we continue living unaffected by things around us in our blissful ivory towers? Certainly not. It will no more be right to live in disconnect ; disconnected with world of human pain and distress. My mundane existence with the struggles of a day’s chore seem very small in comparison to the reality. Every day I have seen, read and heard of so many good Samaritans who have come forward and contributed their bit to the society in various ways. I call my infliction elitist with the gun of sarcasm pointed right into my ever noisy brain. The difference between the them and us are blurring. The people who come to our house for work, the migrants who blend in so well with the populace that we forget of them to be migrants, the every day service providers of various sectors, they are stronger than me in will, strength, resilience and much more. The difference is humbling. And then the virus has also made us realize that life is the biggest equalizer. It does not chose us seeing our economic or social bearing, and in fear we hide behind our masks. For the first time in our lives we are all wearing the same mask. The mask of fear, a fear of the unknown suffering. This masquerade will end some day. On that day humanity will emerge with a more compassionate, sensible, human face. We can no more take this planet and people for granted, we are not here to stay forever, we are just making a journey, we are only passing through.

Coming back to a more engaging problem at hand ( literally..my right hand ), the agony of typing as each muscle twitches with pain has made me come to a resolve. After rest and recoup, I intend to learn tennis. I want to pick up that tennis racquet at least for once and hit a few balls in Sania Mirza style, across the court. Here I am at an advantage point, I have a coach at home, the husband is a very good tennis player…or at least used to be a few decades ago ! So next time I get a pain in my elbow I will proudly call it The Elitist Tennis Elbow, and not ” The Broomstick Elbow “. If I have to bear the pain then let me add some style to it. Till my elbow recovers, adieu from this blogger.