Edited By: Lasya Adiraj
One fateful February morning, before all hell broke loose (read: before we actually became aware all hell had broken loose), my friends and I took a long-awaited trip to Delhi. It was a time of false hope and foolish naivety, with the war on CoVID-19 yet to be officially declared. Still, worry fuelled us, pumping blood straight to our legs as we ran to the infirmary to buy face masks, praying we’ll make the ten-minute run there and back before our campus shuttle left us in the dust. We did not make it in time, of course — it was a time of foolish naivety, you see — but we decided it was worth it to stay safe. We wore our masks feeling remarkably uncomfortable, but oddly proud that we were taking this seriously (*eye-roll*). Ninety minutes later, we were on a train to some-place-I’ve-forgotten (I’m kidding, it was [redacted]). We may have been the only four people amongst the bustling, ever-moving crowd in the metro, wearing a mask that day. I still remember my friend dutifully taking a picture of our reflection in the window, sitting side-by-side, wearing our masks, and commenting that we look like characters in a post-apocalyptic world. I’d hummed in agreement then.
I don’t think either of us realized how accurate that’d be soon enough.
That day marks the first time I’ve ever worn a face mask. Okay, I did take chemistry in high school so I’ve technically worn a mask before — noxious gases and whatnot — but it doesn’t count! They don’t mean the same now as they did back then. They’d been more or less optional, at least for the general public and non-high-school-chemistry-students. Now, face masks are like my glasses: accessories that are absolutely necessary unless I want to crash and die. Quite simply, there’s absolutely no way I can just innocently forget about them lying in my drawer or actively throw them in the bin out of spite — they’re staying for good.
I may have raged on masks before but really — do not punch me for this — they’re not so bad. Sure, it can make you feel like you’re suffocating to death but when was the last time you breathed easy in the past five years. And sure, it ruins your makeup but your daily crying sessions do that for you anyway. I’m sure you could come up with more problems but don’t be a spoilsport. They’re not so bad. Really. I mean, it did start out bad, oh so bad, and I suppose those memories still endure and haunt every waking day but I can definitely live with it. Surely, we’d be nothing today if not for our blind persistence and foolish tenacity. Survival of the fittest, indeed.
Point one in favor of masks: they’re adorably anonymizing. It’s not that no one’s going to recognize you if you have your mask on — we all have unique, distinguishable features unrelated to facial characteristics — but masks offer you a sense of anonymity that oddly feels safe. It actually seems to broaden horizons, if you will. For instance, I love the skies and I love clicking pictures of them. You’ll find about 10,000 photos featuring skies on my cloud. That’s the final result but getting there is absurdly hard for me. I feel strangely embarrassed to stop in the middle of the path, pull out my phone, and snap a picture of the sky, around hundreds of other people passing me by. It’s really a matter of anticipating judgment even though none (probably?) exist. It’s completely different when I wear a mask though. I can actually take a hundred pictures of the sky without feeling uselessly self-conscious. Bonus points for the product: a million sky pictures I can use to spam my best friend!
Masks can also be pretty great at hiding facial expressions. Am I smiling? I could also be sneering. Scowling, perhaps? Who can tell? Masks especially come in handy when you feel that intense urge to make faces at someone annoying. Don’t act coy, we’ve all been there. There’s always that one person that annoys you just by breathing too loud. Trust me, release all that pent-up frustration by making funny faces at them with your mask on. It’s silly and childish but it’s one of those things that make the tiny moments in your day a little more light-hearted. If you’re someone reserved, masks are just perfect. You get to do a live performance of your emotions without the pressure of an audience. If you find it hard to control your expressions by, say, popping a smile when you’re being scolded, masks are your go-to. No more being chased by a chappal because you laughed while being scolded. How brilliant.
If you’re still not convinced, I suppose it doesn’t hurt that masks can make you look insanely attractive. I’m not talking about surgical masks or those masks that look like bird beaks (to whomsoever it may concern, the latter helps with not smudging makeup, keeping your art safe!). Shop from small businesses and buy the right kind. Pair it with some silver jewelry and BAM! You’re practically a new person. Masks can totally change your vibe, offering you everything from dark and mysterious to cute and artsy to dark academia. I dare say it’s a fashion statement now.
Better yet — and you definitely saw this coming — masks keep you and everyone else safe. We’re all understandably sensitized to the pandemic after two years of its successful conquest of the world. We’ve come to a point or at least remain in a point now where it’s either “if it hasn’t gotten to me already, it never will” or “it got to me already, I’m safe” or absolute indifference. None of this is going to make the pandemic disappear into thin air, so be safe and wear your masks, people. We’re in it for the long haul.
At this point, a longer haul.