The End Doesn't Happen All at Once : A Pandemic Memoir

by Chi Rainer Bornfree, Ragini Tharoor Srinivasan

‘Will you write letters with me, back and forth, for the duration of this virus?’ When Covid-19 isolated us all in March 2020, C and R—old friends, parents of young children, academics, and writers—turned to each other. In 100 intensely vulnerable letters, C and R found their way through family estrangement, tense racial dynamics, gender transitions, chronic pain, dramatic career changes, and activist campaigns. Though both continued to mask and take precautions long after the world returned to ‘normal’, they were often pained by each other's choices. Nonetheless, they always returned to the page, enacting what R calls durational performance art. The resulting book is a deeply personal, fiercely political roller coaster that plunges from the lockdowns, into social ambivalence, and finally through the long, politically manufactured ‘end’ of the pandemic. The End Doesn’t Happen All at Once is an unusual kind of Covid it recasts the pandemic, in the words of Arundhati Roy, as a possible ‘portal’ into a different world. Conscious of their privileged status as vaccinated Americans, the writers examine global political from Narendra Modi’s announcement of the March 2020 lockdown in India and the ensuing chaos; to the Trumpists’ attack on the US Capitol Building in 2021; from the systemic collapse in India, to the US government’s failures around racism, healthcare, gun violence, abortion laws, and the climate crisis. These letters serve as both historical document and activist call, and above all, an inspiring testament to the power of friendship to give us the courage to change. Even as it documents some of the world’s darkest times, the book brims with hope for humanity at large.

416 pages, Hardcover

Published February 5, 2025

Reviews

[Book_withquotes · Rating 4 out of 5]

The End Doesn’t Happen All at Once offers a raw and intimate chronicle of the pandemic’s early years. Their 100 letters, penned during the isolating months following March 2020, delve into deeply personal struggles, including family estrangement, gender transitions, and chronic pain, while simultaneously navigating the turbulent landscape of a world in crisis. The book distinguishes itself by its unflinching exploration of “tense racial dynamics” and the authors’ own internal conflicts regarding pandemic precautions. Even as they occasionally disagreed on pandemic safety measures, their dedication to their written dialogue highlights the enduring power of friendship.

Beyond personal narratives, the letters serve as a critical commentary on the socio-political climate of the pandemic. The authors, conscious of their “privileged status as vaccinated Americans,” extend their gaze to global events, from Narendra Modi’s lockdown announcement in India to the January 6th Capitol attack. They scrutinize systemic failures in the US, including racism, healthcare disparities, and the erosion of reproductive rights, while also acknowledging the global ramifications of the pandemic.

The letters capture the emotional and intellectual turmoil of a world grappling with uncertainty, while also offering a beacon of hope for a more just and equitable future. The book’s strength lies in its ability to seamlessly weave personal narratives with broader socio-political analysis, creating a compelling and thought-provoking read that transcends the confines of the pandemic era.

[Mugdha Mahajan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book isn’t about the pandemic — it’s about us during it.

Through letters between two friends, it captures all the things we felt but didn’t have the words for — the confusion, the loneliness, the tiny joys, the anger, the hope.
It’s quiet, honest, and surprisingly comforting.

Not a book you race through. It’s one you sit with.
And maybe even heal a little.

[Paula J · Rating 5 out of 5]

Two brilliant moms, educators & friends share with us their thoughtful letters to each other as they journey Covid in ‘The End Doesn't Happen All at Once'

Within this book we’re able to travel the weeks, months and years of their and our Covid journey.  Their friendship and resilience  warm our hearts and portray the power of sharing and questioning with chuckles on the way.

We all did our best then. What now in Trump2?

[Debabrata Mishra · Rating 5 out of 5]

Some books attempt to record history; others challenge it. "The End Doesn’t Happen All at Once" belongs to a rare category that does both. Told through 100 deeply personal letters exchanged between two correspondents, C and R, this book is neither a straightforward memoir nor a detached historical analysis. Instead, it is an unfiltered, introspective, and politically charged account of the pandemic era, one that captures not just the external chaos of the world but also the intimate, often painful, realities of human relationships.

Unlike conventional pandemic narratives that focus solely on loss, isolation, and resilience, it engages with the pandemic as a broader socio-political phenomenon. Through their letters, C and R navigate a series of crises, from family estrangement to racial tensions, from gender transitions to chronic illness, from the failures of democracy to the fragility of activism.

The epistolary format lends itself to a raw, immediate, and unfiltered honesty. Letters have an inherent intimacy; they reveal not just thoughts, but emotions in real time. This allows the book to move fluidly between the personal and the political, between self-examination and social critique.

While the book primarily revolves around the writers’ experiences as vaccinated Americans, it does not remain confined to the US. One of its most striking aspects is its global awareness. It scrutinizes India’s chaotic lockdown under Narendra Modi, the systemic collapse of healthcare, and the rise of far-right nationalism, drawing unsettling parallels with the Trump administration’s handling of the pandemic and its aftermath. The attack on the US Capitol in 2021 is positioned not just as an isolated event, but as part of a larger, ongoing democratic decline.

The book refuses to be neatly categorized. It is part memoir, part political manifesto, part historical record. It critiques the manufactured “end” of the pandemic, arguing that the world’s collective rush to return to normalcy came at the expense of marginalized communities.

Even as mask mandates lifted and social distancing became a relic of the past, C and R continued to grapple with the virus’s long-term implications—both physically and psychologically.

Perhaps the most moving aspect of the book is its portrayal of friendship as an act of resilience. The letters are filled with moments of friction—disagreements over risk-taking, diverging approaches to activism, personal insecurities—but they always return to the shared space of the written word. R describes their correspondence as "durational performance art," an idea that elevates their exchange from mere documentation to something transformative.

In conclusion, it does not offer neat conclusions or simple answers. It is messy, restless, and at times deeply unsettling—qualities that make it an essential read. It forces readers to confront not just the world’s failures, but their own complicity in them.
For those seeking a book that reaffirms their pre-existing beliefs, this is not it. For those willing to engage in a raw, unsparing reflection on the world we have inherited and the one we wish to create, it is a vital, urgent, and profoundly moving read.

[Rahul Vishnoi · Rating 5 out of 5]

-Do you remember the pandemic?-
Review of 'The End Doesn't Happen All At Once' by Chi Rainer Bornfree, Ragini Tharoor Srinivasan

Quote Alert
"𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐞 (𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰), 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡."

What do you remember of pandemic? I distinctly remember my last train ride in Shatabdi, just before lockdown. People had tied up handkerchief on their faces. Since I am a dentist, it was not a shock for me to see masks too. When I went to market just before the pandemic, I realized how much I had the habit of touching things: shopkeeper's counter, random items, currency notes and what not. It was a rude shock. It was hard to keep my hands off my face.

It's been 5 years and yet it still feels like yesterday. So many of us lost loved ones, suffered from losses, lived in fear. Many of us don't want to remember those days. But Bornfree and Tharoor Srinivasan wrote letters daring the pandemic, so as to share their love and not to lose their spirit and perhaps their minds.

The book is poignant, drenched in sadness and a resolution to find happiness. Have a look at these lines:
"You wrote in your last letter of your loneliness, of headaches,of unwillingness to try to connect and root. Of conversations that go unspoken, of silent dreams and nightmares of the future.I hear you. This letter seems like another letter about nothing. I begin to wonder if Nothingness is not the signature, somehow,of this time. If all of this-loneliness, triviality, death, silences—is the shadow of the Nothing-the way we register the being of what is not--the way what is not constitutes us."