Knuckles sanitized raw bleeding in blue gloves, His familiar workplace now a field of droplets sprayed across a room or lurking on a handle or a sink to find their way
inside trusting hands or mouth or eyes. At home, he confines himself to his room, ghosting the perimeter of his own life, as the plague that sweeps the face of earth slowly strangles sufferers, in their silent queues for the treatment they will never receive. They join a growing number on TV each night this summer. Cold blue light filters out of our screens, showing pages and pages of home-bound students, squeezed into sharp-cut grids, receiving the principal’s address from home. A video plays: poignant images from concerts, carnivals, tournaments, scenes of people dancing, friends embracing, cheering sports teams, Like a summer’s breeze, flit across the screen, A parting message of solidarity, The hope of light to cherish as the sun fades. Aayami Jaguri is a 16-year-old student at Doha College (Qatar) who is currently studying in Year 11. She is a writer and poet who has already received several prestigious awards for her work. “My poem ‘Summer’ compares the previous summers I have experienced to the summer I now anticipate during this period of confinement, as chaos continues in the world around us. The poem’s title, ‘Summer,’ immediately brings images of beaches, vacations and fun to mind. This year, however, summer shall be a far throw from the one any of us imagined.”
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