#the next train literally was late because everyone wanted to get on that overcrowded train that was late too

[moss-guide]

train etiquette is something that's foreign to middle aged people somehow

[robot-unicorn-attack]

☽ FLOWER, 25

“ I said that I am a fairy and they prefer to dance and fly as a butterfly but they made me talk and walk, and I hate walking and talking. ” —Sasha Pivovarova ( like something out of the RISE script for “Flower” ) 

Real Name: AURA PHILYRA  Agency: 𝑅 𝐼 𝒮 𝐸 (Sky World) FC: Ming Xi Unicorn Name: PAGEANT PRINCESS Place of Birth: Moon City    

Appearance: While Aura has not permanently altered her looks in any way, “Flower”’s image can fluctuate because of the “holo-veil” the RISE team insists she wear over her face in public, and of course, while racing. It’s essentially an undetectable face-mask that plays off of and digitally alters Aura’s features to give her an exaggerated doll face- ranging from the intentionally synthetic-looking (ex. large doll-ish eyes), complete glitter/tattooed face or even a face-scramble that confuses camera lenses to keep people from taking images of Aura without the agency’s authorisation while she’s out and about. Her naked face is hardly ever seen.

Wardrobe: Whatever fits within what the RISE image consultants call “Pixie-bot” which verges on creepy, fake-y “living doll” territory but with a fantasy element given her pretty steed is a Pegasus model. They were considering “Loli-bot” for Aura early on- because of her age they were sure she could pull it off. Aura would have stomached the aesthetic, too, just to get paid. Thankfully, however, the “Pixie-bot” idea was floated due to Pageant Princess’ particular winged model. 

[She’s definitely not against the pretty clothes and costumes- it’s the personality they want to go along with it that she dislikes.]

Places most likely to be found: Aura is either at the RISE training track with Pageant (practising or watching someone practise), asleep (snoring) in her teeny RISE apartment (the more important, the bigger the apartment- if that tells you anything), or since she’s promoting herself as Flower, RISE has her going out to club events on Unicorn City most nights.. and management says she isn’t allowed to drink anymore given her last indelicate drinking debacle. 

People mostly likely to be with: On the training track, she’s most likely to be with RISE’s training team (mostly techies who might as well be speaking a whole other language to her when they go on about Pageant’s internal mechanics), but she doesn’t really care for them. She also sees her teammates- Supernova and Sunbeam- there a lot, but.. they don’t really care for her. Otherwise, Aura’s out in the City’s nightlife with strangers and the occasional RISE babysitter dragging her around by the arm to make sure she sees and talks to everyone she should be (and avoids everyone she should be). She really can’t even make a friend that way, much less a love connection, so.. Aura’s pretty much a loner, but not by choice. 

Strongest character trait: of Flower: Sweet / of Aura: Obstinate 

Public Image: Aura plays The Long-Legged Bimbo to Supernova’s polished Heroine and Sunbeam’s beloved Sky-Daughter personas. [And- those really creepy “robot” ig models that are really just like cgi ? That’s the vibe- that level of weird perfection, and just as superficial and ditz-y. If you’re going to “Twilight” a racer- might as well go all the way with it.] Her “role” among her RISE companions makes her feel like a complete joke, but she’s determined to be taken seriously by making herself into a winner. 

Racing Strengths: Truthfully, there aren’t many by way of skill- just determination (and many years of tears of frustration). Dressage is a forte, with a big lean on Pageant who’s perfectly suited to the required elegance. 

Racing Weaknesses: All of it. Everything. Slow, but.. still coming for you. 

Personality: In reality, Aura is much more strong-willed and uses biting sarcasm with abandon. “Flower”, however, is the giggly, disarming costume that Aura dons publicly. Flower is confused easily, but fun-loving and excited to be where she is at any given time. She says “Oh !” in dreamy realisation a lot and smiles prettily even when she loses. But Aura, in private, feels a bit deflated, tired- maybe a little ashamed at what she has to do in order to stay relevant in the racing industry. Lately, she’s felt awfully lonely- because no one around her really knows her- but she tries to let it be enough that darling (though dumb) “Flower” is never alone and always surrounded by fans and icons. 

Biography: 

The eldest of five children, Aura grew up in the overcrowded rookeries of a little-known moon- whenever she talks about where she’s from, no one ever seems to know what or where "Moon City” is. So, to avoid long-winded (and perhaps embarrassing) explanations, she generally tells anyone who asks that she’s originally from Ice World. 

Aura was “scouted” by a RISE recruiter at the age of sixteen while on a trip to Unicorn City with friends to catch a race- the first she had ever seen ! Apparently, the recruiter liked her looks, but that was just about all the “talent” she had to give at the time as she had never even touched a mechanical horse, let alone ridden one- forget raced ! But, desperate to leave the slums of Moon City behind her for good, Aura quickly signed with RISE and was almost immediately thrown into the deep-end with her horse- Pageant Princess- only to embarrass herself in her first televised race by dropping in dead-last. Aura hadn’t expected to win or anything, yet it was still disappointing, and her management decided to set her aside for a few seasons- to train her, fix her image, cultivate a fan-base for her through a commercial campaign for uv beauty products, and within the last year, little promos that depict her as living in a little virtual fairy cottage on Sky World that she only leaves to dominate the track with the winged Pageant Princess and to attend various high-society Unicorn City bacchanals brimming with beautiful, glowing people. So far, it’s been a successful campaign and her fan-base is rapidly growing. RISE fully expects Aura to be ready to race in this new season- and more than just compete, but actually win. And, really, that’s all Aura wants- to win and cement herself as a serious racer among her fellows...and make the big money to share with her family back home on Moon City.

Though the inability to live as her normal self has taken a toll on Aura over the past years, she has at least been able to comfort herself with the knowledge that she is helping her family- that she is making them proud by working herself to exhaustion to become better- the best ! She means to win this season, no matter what it takes. 

Relationships:

Snow - Racer crush, actual crush. A much-needed ally on the horizon. Aura knows of Snow (who doesn’t ?), and has bumped into her at glamour events from time to time. They’ve only raced together once- years ago in Aura’s very first race (when she was a baby ((16)) !)- and naturally, Snow beat Aura...thoroughly. But that was to be expected. Aura’s followed Snow closely since Snow’s return to racing and looks forward to their next head-to-head.

Sky - 

Ice -

Supernova - RISE “Teammate”. Aura idolises Supernova and has for years, but she worries (and would be so mortified to know) that her hero really thinks of her as a fool who’s only good for getting sad drunk (once !) at company promotional events...where Aura may have vomited in front of her... Aura hopes that winning more races will convince Supernova that she is the real deal ! (Her ultimate dream would be to have Supernova mentor her !)  

Sunbeam - RISE “Teammate”. Okay, so Aura’s a little jealous of her because she’s the pride and joy of RISE and she seems to have the respect of Supernova ! And she’s pretty and talented ( unmatched technique~ ) and allowed to have her own personality- it’s too much for Aura to stomach sometimes. She really likes to avoid Sunbeam socially if possible.

Flame -

Nyx - **danger by taemin plays** Sol and “Flower” have met before, while Flower was relevant for a second as a teenager ( - they danced at a club the night before she finished dead-last in her first race ), but it’s been a while since their paths have crossed- though Aura is well-aware of Nyx’ success. Now that Flower’s back in the game, they’re sure to see each other more and more.  

Widowmaker - Aura is sensitive to ~vibes~, and she knows there’s something with Eleni. “Just look at the way she looks at me...” And, you know what, consider Aura intimidated. But even though there is some miscommunication between the two of them (most of which Aura is not aware of), Aura isn’t confused about the sort of racer Widow is- and she knows Eleni’s not to be approached lightly...but also, like- “What did I do~ to catch that death stare ?” It does bother her.

Playlist: 

sit still, look pretty by daya

favriel by grimes

alone by halsey

medieval warfare by grimes

i am the best by 2ne1

heavy metal and reflective by azealia banks

nightmare by halsey 

**sweet dreams (are made of this) by emily browning 

nightmusic by grimes, ft. majical cloudz

**from the ‘sucker punch’ soundtrack

Headcanons:

Owns Snow/S.C. merch- if Snow ever discovers the holo keychain, Aura will literally die of embarrassment. #aurivana 

Her salary is meager- but that’s because she earns almost solely for RISE at the moment with promos and brand deals. Everything she owns- the high-end couture and jewellry and even the holo-veil- aren’t really hers- they’re on loan from RISE. And whatever coin she does manage to earn goes straight to her family on Moon City, so.. she’s almost always skint. 

Aura’s RISE apartment is.. like a mouse’s hole, spatially. The bed is lofted above the kitchen area, and the bathroom is the only room with a door. A glass door- but it’s still a door. But the lighting is always an ambient, calming violet-to-indigo that reminds her of home. 

If she were a vine she would be the one with the child staring down the barrel of a squirt gun and he just says “shoot me”.

Aura’s RISE handlers- it’s usually a big guy named J.J. who is really just a strong-arm type (which confuses Aura- like, do they think she needs a bodyguard or are they afraid that she might run away if left unsupervised ? It’s unclear to her.)- do not let her drink at parties anymore. Not only has she nearly vomited on an industry icon (and personal idol), but she’s also broken character (a big no-no) to tell off the son of some CEO that apparently wanted to work with RISE on a future endeavour (oops). 

Yeah. She’s almost been fired a couple of times, but at this point, RISE has sunk so much money into Aura that, actually, the only fiscally smart thing to do is keep her around and train her up. 

*Daydreams about Marivana*  #secretsecrets

[chantalkrcmar]

Chin Up

Mumbai is opening up very very slowly. More work is being done in the city, as in some construction projects are humming back to life; rickshaws are operating again (still no local trains); and we can step out of our building gates without getting the smack-down from the police. But most shops are still closed; restaurants and cafes remain shuttered; it’s still extremely difficult to find anywhere to be outdoors, as beaches and parks have very limited hours if they are open at all. And rules about what we can and cannot do are so convoluted, seem to change day by day, and are so poorly communicated, that we still don’t really know what is permissible.

Case in point:

From what we could gather, Mumbai beaches were supposed to be open again. So we made plans to meet friends for a social distancing playdate at an under-utilized section of Juhu Beach this morning. When Rahul, Anamika and I got to that part of the beach, a police officer informed us that the beach is only open to walkers 5am-9am and 5pm-7pm. It was 9:30am. I was annoyed because we had passed the main entrance of Juhu Beach on our way to this one, and there were people on the beach. Not that many people so it was perfect for social distancing, but enough people to know that somewhere the beach was open. Whether or not it was supposed to be. So we called our friends and told them to hold tight until we checked on our prospects down beach.

We then went to the main entrance of Juhu, and waltzed onto the beach with no problem. We called our friends and they joined us. Anamika and her buddy Georgia started merrily digging in the sand; the lifeguard came by and told us not to swim because the currents are too dangerous during monsoon (I had to bite my tongue from saying: “We wouldn’t let the girls swim in garbage-infested waters anyway!”); and we adults sat on the sand appropriately distanced from one another and started chatting.

And this is where it gets comically absurd…

Eventually, a police officer in a jeep rolled up to us and explained two things:

1) The beach indeed was closed because it was after 9am. Permit me to editorialize: This seemed like baloney to me. There were a number of people on the beach so it was clear the enforcement was…shall we say, spotty?! All I could figure was that the police officer on duty at this section of beach must have taken a longer chai break or something. (I know it’s not nice to always make fun of Indian police, but they are such a generally hapless, incompetent — and too-often corrupt — bunch.);

2) Even if it had been between the approved period of beach time, he intoned that only walkers were allowed. So no sitting down. Ever. While we all nodded politely and thanked Officer Whozeewhatzit for his service, I was thinking, “Next time we come, I’ll just jog in circles the entire time Anamika builds sand castles.”

Back to the incompetent police comment…As we were slowly making our way off the beach, another police officer standing near the road was blowing his whistle at us in a very desultory manner. I mean, we really were dawdling, and presumably breaking a sacred COVID-19 rule by still being there, and he literally would not move to hustle us off. Even to protect public health. Clearly, he could not be bothered to do much to get us off the beach (now 1 1/2 hours after the beach was officially closed). This is such a typical scene: Indian police in action — meaning no action whatsoever. Unless they are moved to use their laathis (large batons with which they regularly beat people, especially Muslim Indians).

This whole beach experience is kind of funny. Until you realize that it is a clear demonstration that even as lockdown restrictions “ease,” we are still pretty much locked inside our apartments for lack of anywhere to go in Mumbai. And we can’t get out of Mumbai (not allowed), so there’s really no escape to greener pastures for some breathing room.

Incidentally, the rule to have the beaches in Mumbai open 5am-9am and 5pm-7pm MAKES NO SENSE from a public health standpoint. I understand that they are trying to avoid massive crowds. But this is a flawed way of doing it. Mumbai is a very late-night city, so the day doesn’t really start for most people, including children, until 11am or so. Anamika is taking a little online art class which starts at 10am, and the other 4 and 5 year olds in the class often are still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes when class starts. My daughter, on the other hand, has already been awake for hours at that point! (Being early risers, Anamika and I are bad Mumbaikers.) So, there is no need to close the beaches as early as 9am. Seriously. There were so few people out on Juhu Beach this morning. Even being stuck inside ALL DAY LONG is not enough of an incentive to get people out of bed early here. And then to open the beach from 5pm-7pm is a disaster. That’s when everyone and their mother-in-law starts moving about — and when the beaches will be overrun. Exactly when we will not go.

Most decisions made during this COVID-19 disaster here in India have been totally inexplicable. As the country slides deeper and deeper into danger, the decisions seem more and more crazy. (These beach rules are nothing compared to most other rules and policies.) Let’s just say, no one in a position of power here is inspiring confidence that s/he is capable of steering this gigantic, overcrowded ship to shore. Any shore. I know those of you in the US have had to live with expert leadership during this pandemic, too. ;-) But at least some states in the US have competent leaders who have been doing their best to manage coronavirus — despite Trump’s best efforts to make things even worse. I wish I could say the same, but since our state of Maharashtra, and our city of Mumbai in particular, are the poster children for COVID-19 nightmares in India (second only to Delhi), I’m afraid I can’t. Give me Charlie Baker over Uddav Thackeray any day.

Warning: Writing does a lot of different things for me, one of which is it helps me manage my feelings. So this post gets a bit heavier from now on. For those of you who don’t want anything but fun Theater of the Absurd, you can stop reading now.

I have been trying to stay as upbeat as I can through this COVID-19 crisis. For Anamika’s sake. And for my sake. Overall, I am stubborn enough to continue keeping my chin up, to continue playing like a four year old, to continue goofing off, and to continue finding laughter in everyday stuff.  Honestly, I don’t know what else to do. But the stress is starting to wear me thin.

I will admit that I have moments now when I am very scared. I am scared for my family’s health and well-being. I am scared that we are trying to make it through a pandemic in a multi-generational home with family members at high risk (my mother-in-law, in particular), in a developing country with a healthcare system that is a shambles. The first couple months of our lockdown, I was better at keeping the fearful moments at bay. Things in Mumbai were not as horrendous as they are now, and I have just become more depleted as I have to give more and more to my family and I have so few ways of re-filling my tank. But with recent headlines such as this one, “India coronavirus numbers explained: Many milestones, all worrisome” (https://indianexpress.com/article/explained/india-coronavirus-numbers-explained-covid-19-cases-deaths-milestone-6456768/), it’s kind of hard NOT to worry.

It is becoming increasingly clear that even our solidly middle class status here is not necessarily enough to get us on a lifeboat if India’s ship keeps sinking. (That’s not entirely metaphorical given that there are no commercial international flights and no ways to even get out of Mumbai now.) I am scared my in-laws won’t make it through this. I am also scared that Rahul, Anamika and I will increasingly struggle with lockdown(s) and the stress of managing this pandemic under the harsh circumstances here. And as COVID-19 cases spike here with lockdown relaxations and migrants moving back to their villages in about as unsafe a manner as could be (thanks to our central and state governments), we very well may be headed for waves of lockdown after lockdown for a long time. That’s exactly what they’re doing in Pakistan.

For the past 2 1/2 months, I have been watching in horror as daily wage earners have been starving their way through lockdown — and catching coronavirus at disproportionate rates. And now I am watching in horror as the coronavirus numbers keep rising, and India is muddling through a sort-of relaxation of lockdown — making all of us vulnerable. As this newspaper article  (https://indianexpress.com/article/india/covid-19-coronavirus-delhi-maharashtra-gujarat-6454868/) states, Mumbai is almost out of ventilators and ICU beds. As in, completely. And many experts actually argue that Mumbai already has run out. “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story” seems to be the government’s motto here. And that says nothing of masks, protective gear, and numbers of healthcare professionals capable of taking care of COVID patients, as well as people with other medical needs.

For those of you who have ever lived in a developing country, you know the severe limits of healthcare in many such places. For those of you who haven’t, I am sure you can use your imagination. Without a pandemic, we were lucky to be able to afford excellent healthcare here. Rahul and I would never have moved here if that was not the case; we would never put Anamika at risk in that way. But now with a pandemic, we may not be able to continue relying on good healthcare. A friend of Rahul’s mother who is diabetic, and no spring chicken, has contracted coronavirus; the hospital she went to sent her home. Diabetics are a high risk category, for goodness sake. These people have money; they went to a good hospital; they still got punted. Being trapped (which we are) in a potentially dangerous situation is unsettling, to be sure.

The intimate contact amongst people of all castes and classes here in India has always fascinated me. But it is that intermingling that could make the effects of COVID-19 more — shall we say — egalitarian. The country cannot (or, at least, does not) run without people who live in the most vulnerable communities coming into close contact with middle and upper class people all the time. Lots of rich people have staff who clean their homes and buildings and cook for them, and nannies to take care of their children. But even for families that have furloughed their “house help” and nannies, there are so many other ways that people of all castes and classes come into contact with one another.

We do not have a nanny (never have), and our dear caretaker Ambhubhai lives with us so he is stuck with us anyway. But take our building, for instance: I have already described the daily door-to-door milk deliveries here. There’s also a kutchra wallah (garbage collector) who comes door-to-door every morning. And then there’s the kela wallah (banana seller) who plies his bananas through our compound. And sure we could avoid buying anything from roadside vendors, but even socially distancing in grocery shops here is absolutely impossible. As is the case in the US, who keeps stores clean and stocked and who mans the cash box? Poor people, of course — the ones disproportionately getting coronavirus. We are literally in each other’s faces here. There is no way around it. (I know I have whined about the lack of possibilities for social distancing in Mumbai before, but I just cannot over-emphasize this issue.) Anytime any one of us leaves our building gates to get groceries, we could be bringing the dreaded C-word home — no matter how many precautions we take. Heck. We don’t even have to leave our building gates to bring in the C-word since so many others may bring it to us.

Another example: Just in the past couple weeks, the air conditioner and the TV in my in-laws’ bedroom broke. Obviously, they do not need a TV in their bedroom to survive. But the lack of AC in this brutal heat for elders with health problems is actually a real problem. And they are too afraid, understandably, to get a repairman to come to our apartment to fix anything. So they are sleeping at night in our cramped living room. But that can’t last forever; they’re barely sleeping. Eventually my in-laws will have to get a repairman to come. And he likely lives in a slum where coronavirus rates are higher, and…you get the picture.

Sure, we could stop drinking milk for the next year or however long this pandemic lasts. Sure, we could stop having our garbage collected for the next year. Sure, we could try to never ever leave our compound except for grocery shopping for the next year…But really, how feasible is that?!

And let me be clear: I am not advocating for locking poor people into their slums to protect those of us who live in more posh homes. Mumbai has been doing just that with “containment zones,” and it is horrific. Where COVID-19 numbers are the worst (which are mainly bastis (slums) and chawls (one step up from slums)), Mumbai police literally barricade those communities in. For weeks, the basti that is just down the lane from our apartment compound was one such “containment zone.” A large gate was placed across the lane to keep the basti dwellers in, the front gates to our compound which are typically never shut were locked to keep them out, and police patrolled the area all the time. Every time I saw this tableau of terror from within our compound, I got chills. Caged neighborhoods will be one of the enduring memories that I have of this dark time.

The lockdown here obviously could not last until COVID-19 is vanquished. Nor could it last until India got a functional healthcare system — which will not be in my lifetime, or even Anamika’s — if ever. Even with increasing COVID-19 danger, the world’s worst lockdown had to end at some point. The psychic and economic toll it has taken, and continues to take, here is grave. But India really really really screwed this up. Locking us all in for the past 2 1/2 months to prepare India for the epic COVID-19 battle did not prepare India. Even Modi’s cheerleading and patronizing “We Indians Are Tough” speeches are no longer keeping folks buoyed. Anyone who knows anything knows that we are all in deep trouble here.

The Economist (amongst other news sources more globally focused, such as Foreign Policy, and Economic & Political Weekly) paints a grim picture…

https://www.economist.com/asia/2020/06/06/covid-19-infections-are-rising-fast-in-bangladesh-india-and-pakistan?fsrc=newsletter&utm_campaign=the-economist-today&utm_medium=newsletter&utm_source=salesforce-marketing-cloud&utm_term=2020-06-10&utm_content=article-link-6

Politicians here are banking on India’s young demographic to save us from an unbearable number of fatalities. But that is not any consolation to those of us who are elders or live with elders (that would be my family)…And it is no consolation to those of us who worry that, god forbid, any of us younger folks get very sick from coronavirus. I know the stats well enough to know that Rahul and I are at extremely minimal risk of dying from coronavirus should we get it. But who would take care of Anamika if we get sick? My in-laws are not capable. We may even need to go to a quarantine center without her. Oh god, I can’t even think of that…And it is also no consolation for those of us who research the most vulnerable populations here in India (that would be me). I feel awful for the impoverished; I know how horribly tough they have it. They have no protection whatsoever. In some ways, I guess it serves us privileged folks right to finally have a taste of the bitter pill of vulnerability that poor people have to swallow all the time. We middle class folks in India still at this point have more safety from COVID-19 than poor people do — but we can no longer be arrogant to think that we will remain safe.

OK. Now that I have this off my chest, I am going to go back to chin-up. Time for a little healthy distraction with a “Downton Abbey” re-run. I know you won’t judge me. :-) And one positive thing, as my final note…

Not only are we Mumbaikers on top of each other any moment we leave our apartments, we Krcmar-Dave’s are on top of each other every moment we are in our apartment. I have to say that I am amazed that up until now we have not had any major blow-outs with each other. All six of us are sharing such a small space and we are together 24 hours a day. Sure, there have been moments when I have wanted to strangle certain members of my family. But I haven’t. Nor have they strangled me. I will allow myself to be proud of the fact that we adults are not taking the stress of this crisis out on each other all the time.