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.
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.
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.
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.