For those in the Information and Technology bracket, perhaps viable, to a sizable extent, they web-conferencing, girdling or rather orbiting around their computer, laptop, I-pad, even phone, hands-on, getting the job on hand done, from the distant end of the rainbow, with a stone’s-throw-away effortlessness, but what about the rest of us? That possibly might, day in and day out, have to cross two or three different cities to make it to the place of work. Gurgaon, Delhi and finally, reach Noida, where their office is housed.
If I begin drawing out a list of professions, my allotted wordage, for the most, be taken up, so shan’t even begin with this pea-headed task… But, for a quick-bit, to return to the IT wallahs, what happens if some glitch develops in the computer? Shutters down, in all shops, so however, will one procure that priceless ‘whatever’ that has halted the machine from gliding by with shops, of all varieties, save the pharmacists or the grocers with waning staples, how does one go about conducting one’s business? And say the ink in one’s printer has run out, what would one do?
Here the question may be, whatever for, does one need a hard-copy, when one is not passing out print-outs of the presentation compiled, since conferences, as in real, face-to-face symposiums way past the lunch buffet, when Containment is the order of the day?! Well, for some, as in many, despite the mind-numbing repetitious denial, ‘matter’ on paper, thumb-tacked to the board overhead one’s ‘home work-station’ make things easier. A quick glance at the standstill black and white data/documentation: Best tool to remember by rote, stilling that, as they say, like a cat on hot bricks mind.
A few evenings back while getting out of the car — media falls in the exempt category, remember, so no rules broken here — the Medical Superintendent of our friendly neighbourhood hospital was walking by, his home a sniffing distance from the hospital, and with his mask tied-too-close-for-comfort, slurred how the OPD was closed, beds cleared for ‘prospective’ Covid-19 patients, and only if there was an Emergency of the heart attack variety, would the person be entertained. Now, no medical assistance for a broken bone, or tone that down to a sprain, unless one proclaimed concurrent heart palpitation, as well? Burst a bathroom pipe, making a Niagara Fall of your lavatory, with the geyser threatening to detonate with an out of control flow of water, then just ‘wait it out’ — plumbers prohibited to enter the premises, even if one is not living in a gated community.
Barricades put up all over, with over-zealous, otherwise sleeping-on-duty guards. Guards now, handed over the sarkaari baton, believing to be policemen, having the authorisation to rough one up if they wished to… and this, even if one holds a ‘Movement Pass’ from one short linear point to the other, issued by the government with particulars, such as Aadhaar Card etc. and etc. printed on the letterhead bearing the Ashoka emblem.
The marching orders being about doing an about turn, and going home, forgetting about the old, ailing lady, who needed brief assistance to get her by the day. Holidays, don’t necessarily mean about having to travel to Ladakh or Pondicherry; one might just want a vacation at home, kick off those shoes, pour oil in those flyaway tresses, roam around in one’s Jammies, order different cuisines each day, padlocking the kitchen and spending time just doing nothing. And then perhaps, watching some engaging series on Netflix with the supposed better-half. And hearing stories, worth a King’s Ransom, from a Mom, who for the most, spends her days alone, at home, she now on this breath-taking getaway! A pristinely transient experience, but that’s what taking breaks are all about… Locked-in fine, but being told, that life from now on was going to take a different curve — social distancing, here to stay.cTo speed through, lest one finds a few important questions, couldn’t make it to this place.
For all the WhatsApp groups, that so many of us thick-headedly keep dipping into, zestfully forwarding empty-headed jokes to on-the-spot recipients to double-quick the reciprocated by dead-from-the-neck-up clippage, would these WhatsAppians really want to meet up for a drive-by cappuccino with their Co-WhatsAppians?! Instagramming, Snapchatting, Tweeting — are they not platforms of Social Distancing, where one, in full consciousness, dupes oneself, how together we are, uploading pictures of every nanoscopic activity, testimony to our community living?! And from what I can see being locked-up, (given, as of now the only solution!) has led to high-levels of waspishness, restlessness of caged-in family members.
What however, over the past few weeks, has been grossly irreverent is film stars, ebulliently beaming on TV, making good use of the lock-up by gymming — heightening their fitness levels. Celebrities talking about how they were reading books, cooking and the joy of everyday earthly pursuits… In plain bad taste. Have they paid a thought, to the millions hedged in, 20 people in a one cubby-hole room, with empty rice canisters, tapped-on, making hollow sounds?
Blasphemous, yes, all the way, starting from the Great Wall of China to Timbuktu. And in these choppy waters, this epidemic has to be incarcerated to breathe its last.
Dr Renée Ranchan writes on socio-psychological issues, quasi-political matters and concerns that touch us all.