IN a pre-pandemic world, February 23 for me is a work day; not just any work day, but my favourite holiday to work, followed by Phagwah. Although I’m almost always that friend you can depend on to be late, Republic Day is the one day you can bet on my timeliness and actually win.

I’m usually up by 06:00 hours to load up my back pack with bottles of chilled water and snacks for the road. I then shower and get decked out in my brightest and boldest Golden Arrowhead colours, ensuring that my home and car are adorned with at least one miniature replica of our flag. I even compile an entire playlist to get me hyped on the way to work.

This often features dozens of what I believe, are grossly undervalued songs produced by our local artistes, many for the iconic Mashramani song competitions in the genres of Calypso, Chutney and Soca, as well as steelpan.

Since 2012, I have either provided coverage for, or have actively participated in, Mashramani, every year without fail.

As an avid feature writer, the creative brilliance and exuberance that characterise the float parade and celebrations along the roadways are a treat to write about. That, coupled with my genuine and unwavering love for all things Guyana, often brings out the best in my work for the day.

I vividly recall my first Mashramani coverage; admittedly, it was also the first time I felt a sense of appreciation for all that Mashramani is and was meant to be.

Previously, as a child, Mashramani for me meant unnecessarily facing hours of the harsh sun to watch a few people dance, and then going home with a throbbing headache that would last all night.

As I got older, my work as a journalist forced me to examine more than just the gyration on the streets. I began to notice the intricacies and the months of preparation and hard work that are invested in creating a single costume, or crafting the perfect theme, or even pairing the ideal tune and lyrics.

The police would also have their work cut out to implement an effective security strategy for the celebrations.

Myself and other media colleagues would begin to plan coverage for each activity, weeks ahead, and fortunately, I’m usually the one tasked with writing the “colour story”, which I believe is the most important of all the ‘Mash’ stories, as it requires the writer to paint a picture so clear and vivid that readers feel as though they have been transpired in the midst of all the excitement.

Last year, the coronavirus pandemic deprived me of indulging in any of the activities that would have informed my colour story.

On this day in 2021, I cried. In my moments of reflection, I realised that as Guyanese, we have grown so accustomed to being God’s favourite, that we were never able to fathom such a virus reaching our shores.

Even when it was here, it felt so unreal, and even though next month will mark two years of us living in a world plagued with a plague, I know many of us have still not fully adapted. We still sometimes dive in for those big Guyanese hugs when we see our loved ones, and I know for a fact that, today, many of us would be tempted to “dash way de masks and gyrate like ole times.”

But, even as I fully caution against this, it warms my heart that we are gradually returning to some level of normalcy.

Although I was not in the thick of things like I usually am, I was ecstatic to see the 2022 song competitions being hosted in a physical setting.

It warmed my heart that my friends in the music industry were able to move away from the restrictive screens, and actually indulge and feed off of the excitement from an actual crowd, as against the hype and love we’ve been expressing in the comments section on social media.

It is my sincerest hope and prayer that, by next year, with continued and growing numbers of vaccination, we would see the return of our spectacular Mashramani Costume Float Parade, so that our designer friends too can get back to inspiring us with their talents. They too have also been restricted for far too long.

Plus, I eagerly await the day I’m able to cover yet another impressive Mashramani Costume and Float Parade. I believe when the time comes, I would have to shield my keyboard from the waterworks that are bound to come when I start writing my colour story.