Annals of Indian Academy of Neurology
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Year : 2020  |  Volume : 23  |  Issue : 5  |  Page : 710

‘Z Plus Corden’ during Covid Times

Department of Neurology, Sree Chitra Tirunal Institute for Medical Sciences and Technology, Trivandrum, Kerala, India

Date of Submission05-May-2020
Date of Acceptance28-May-2020
Date of Web Publication07-Oct-2020

Correspondence Address:
Ajith Cherian
Department of Neurology, Sree Chitra Tirunal Institute for Medical Sciences and Technology, Trivandrum - 695 011, Kerala
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Source of Support: None, Conflict of Interest: None

DOI: 10.4103/aian.AIAN_397_20

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How to cite this article:
Cherian A. ‘Z Plus Corden’ during Covid Times. Ann Indian Acad Neurol 2020;23:710

How to cite this URL:
Cherian A. ‘Z Plus Corden’ during Covid Times. Ann Indian Acad Neurol [serial online] 2020 [cited 2021 Sep 16];23:710. Available from:

It’s early in the morning. The newspaper boy has just left our lane after disbursing yesterdays paid news and bad news on our gravel. One could still hear the ‘suprabhatham’ from the distant temple. The cacophony of birds has still not settled. Few bosom peri-menopausal ladies were huffing and panting along the lane, their shawls tied taut around their size 42’ waists striving with each step that eluding vital statistics. Their combined efforts put steam engines of yore to shame. Remarkably enough all the gossips about the absentee member of their group is quickly exchanged during this walk. I often wondered, was it this gossip glue that stuck them together.

With the advent of Milma, milkman has slowly vacated the arena. He is now categorized with dodo, dinosaur, Doordarshan and disco dance as extinct. Vehicle traffic has not started. All is still and well. A serene calmness permeates and each breath of fresh air has silence imprinted on it.

Upon this calmness descends the commandos mostly black, few spotted, few bruised and rest sepulchral white. Their posterior most appendages up in air held like a mast, they march in pairs, then circles keeping the lady of significance within them. They scream often silently, sometimes in shrill soft decibels announcing her arrival. They march along with her, two in front, two beside and two in rear. No intruders are allowed and any attempts are resisted with a stern glance or an angry growl.

This alerts the ladies of the house and they come out with ‘manchatti*’ in hand. Now it becomes an all lady affair with the lady of significance seated in the centre demonstrating her catch and the earlier huffing and panting matrons standing in a circle around her. The outer most cordon is formed by the commandos who encircle this gathering occasionally rubbing their torso’s against the housewives legs. The commandos are hoping against hope that one of these ladies have a bruised hand or an absent maid which will make them request our lady of significance to clean these delicacies. The offal belongs to the commandos for the wolfing. They keep our lanes clean and neat and off mice too. Once the lady of significance leaves, they faithfully accompany her till the edge of their territorial boundaries beyond which a new set of feline commandos accompany our fisherwoman.

Then I woke up. It had been a REM dream, almost ennui. Little did I realize that I would miss these most mundane acts. It required a Covid – something that weights 0.85 attograms for me to attain this epiphany.

* An earthen pot

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