Monday, March 23, 2020

“In the midst of winter... an invincible summer”

We are living through trying times. There seems to be a scary new virus that has managed to escape from one tiny district of one massive nation and gone on a world tour, leaving thousands dead and millions more panic stricken in its wake. Entire nations have come to a standstill, with social isolation, work from home and lockdown becoming buzzwords for the day. The most disorienting part of it all is the speed at which the entire scenario has unfolded. The virus was first identified in Wuhan in November 2019, but it arrived in India only in early March 2020, and became the all encompassing area of focus for the entire country barely in the last week or ten days. Right now though, it seems like all there is left in the world to talk about.

I do not want to talk about the virus, or the disease, or the death toll, or the lack of adequate healthcare resources should community transmission progress aggressively in this country. There is far too much of that out there already. I want to talk about the social and personal fallout of this entire scenario, a factor that seems to have gone largely unnoticed or at least unaddressed so far. The country – and the world, in large parts – has been plunged headlong, without warning, into an era of social isolation, bringing everyday life to a grinding halt for millions.

Over many days now, the vast majority of the conversations I have been having with friends and peers have revolved around the virus. It had started off casually, and there had been a fair bit of excitement at the prospect of being able to work from home. At that point, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to laze and spend time with friends, a mini staycation of sorts. I myself had imagined that it would be fifteen days of reliving summer vacations, waking up at noon and eating ungodly amounts of dessert. Maybe this would be the time when I would finally be able to convince my partner to stay over for a couple of days without spending a majority of that time bent over his laptop, working on the latest assignments from work! The reality turned out to be vastly different, of course. The panic moved rapidly, and with more and more social institutions shutting shop and governments enforcing lockdowns, people went home to their families and hunkered down in quarantine for the foreseeable future.

This is where the trouble starts. It must be acknowledged that a situation of enforced isolation, particularly as a means to combat a contagion, is bound to create panic and mass hysteria. And this hysteria creates artificial crises that often supersede the real, existent dangers. Around the world, there has been a large scale shortage of basic groceries and staples, including ridiculous items such as toilet paper, because people have started hoarding essentials to prepare for shortages in the upcoming months, ironically precipitating the very thing that they most fear! This has, of course, left the old and the infirm, as well as the financially badly off, out in the cold. Similar patterns seem to be unfolding in India, despite repeated assurances from the government that essential services and products will continue to be produced and made available in markets. 

Panic buying is perhaps the most visible impact of the disruptions unfolding through the virus scare. There is another, much deeper malaise that is bound to wreak its own variety of malignant havoc. I do not think that people appreciate how devastating isolation can be, particularly when it is coupled by the prospect of an indefinite future. Dark thoughts threaten to overshadow the human mind, and apathy sets in. The current scenario is rife for the worst sort of emotional and psychological disruptions in people. Many are isolated alone, in cities far away from home, and this causes increased levels of anxiety for the family’s well-being. A lot of others have been forced to return to family homes that are abusive at worst, and distant and uncaring at best. Some of us have the privilege of being able to continue with our work remotely, but for others, this is an enforced holiday that they had never wanted in the first place. Not knowing with any kind of certainty when life will be able to return to some degree of normalcy makes the situation many times worse.

The days seem interminably long. It has been less than a week since I started working from home, and a little less than ten days since I last saw my friends. Yet time has slowed down to a painful crawl, and every minute that drags by is laced with some thought – or conversation – about the virus and the upheaval it has caused. Social media has shown once again what a phenomenal pain in the neck it can be during times of crisis. Every Whatsapp group conversation is filled with incessant videos, articles, circulars, notices and updates about the virus’s latest victims. The tone ranges from somber to hysterical, adding fuel to an already steadily heightening and pervasive fear psychosis. It is becoming increasingly more difficult to log on to any site or platform without your senses being assaulted by factoids about the disease. And the worst part? The focus is entirely on the fatalities, the gruesome nature of those who are seriously ill, and the ostensibly indefinite duration that this outbreak and quarantining will continue for. If one were to take some time out to research, one would also come across enough encouraging articles – this one is a good example – about people recovering from the disease, and about possibilities of the outbreak getting controlled and life going back to normal at a reasonably early date. But of course, these stories are not highlighted, because where is the sensationalism in that?

One good thing has come of this entire series of unfortunate events, though. More and more, people are reaching out to friends and family that they had fallen out of touch with, and really talking to the ones who have been around. Over the last week or so, I have been making full utilisation of Whatsapp’s video calling facility to talk to friends from all over the country. I also feel closer to my partner, keeping more closely in touch with each other than we’ve ever done before. Crises of these kinds tend to bring out life’s priorities with a lot of clarity, and I for one am glad to have realised that there are so many people that I care about. This is also the time to slow down and reflect. Far too much, we have become dependent on external sources of joy and entertainment. Gatherings with friends are dependent on the spirits on offer, romantic relationships are founded on the amount of money spent on dates and dinners. The joy and depth of conversations are lost in the midst of loud party music and psychedelic lights. Now, maybe, is when we go back to communicating with people because we like to talk to them, to know their minds, rather than because we only care about dressing up and going out together! Even more significantly, now is the time to think about non-personal hobbies and occupations. This is the time for the introvert to come into her own, and the reader, the thinker, the artist to flourish. These identities do not have to be the exclusive reserve of a tiny handful. Most people find some creative instincts if only they dig deep enough, and what better time to do so than now?

So let the news channels and the disease updates be, for a while. Pick up the phone and call someone. Or better still, pick up your pencil and practice doodling. Read about mindfulness, and then try incorporating it in your life daily. Go for a walk if your town still allows it, or sit out on the terrace, and let the sun fall on your face.  Dance, for no other reason than you can. Give your maid paid leave and do some household chores while listening to podcasts. And the next time you get to hug your friends or kiss your lover goodnight, remember that human proximity is a privilege, and be grateful. Human beings have an extraordinary well of resilience in them, and time and again the world gives us the occasion to delve into that “invincible summer” inside ourselves, pull ourselves back on our feet and carry forward with life. Now is such a time, and it would be a sorry waste to allow oneself to fall prey to the gloom of uncertainty and desperation. Life derives both beauty and meaning from some of its toughest phases. I sincerely hope, for myself and everyone I love, that we are able to look back on this phase years down the line, and pat ourselves and each other on our backs for how we conducted ourselves during this time.