 |
| Mahamayatala, Garia, at 6pm. Usually this intersection has about 200 cars, plus autos, rickshaes, two-wheelers, and a few hundred pedestrians. |
There is so much to think about in this forced isolation … too
much. There is the all-day droning of TV channels with “Corona Updates” that
rehash the same numbers and same drama over and over again. There are the
unwanted updates that are sprung on you after others have been googling or
whatsApping, there’s the horror of one kind or another brought to you by your
own social media activity. Every word, every image, every new nugget is guaranteed
to make you more anxious and frankly terrified, as the world seems to be going
to hell on a hand basket, aided by morons insisting on spreading the contagion
far and wide, and soon to be followed by much worse times globally – in terms
of economy, hunger, and more.
These are the generalized worries – the larger picture everyone
is dealing with. And then there is the more specific. I cannot imagine the
state of mind and health of people living in abusive homes. I cannot imagine
how horrible this must be for most of my LGBT+ people, whose primary sites of
violence and oppression are so often their homes. I am lucky enough not to be
in either situation. I also cannot fathom how difficult this must be for
people, especially women, in out patriarchal, arranged marriage based, women do
the housework, sort of families. Having the menfolk and the kids home all day
everyday means so much extra work for them, so much angst, and so much
thankless and supportless exhaustion. I am lucky not to be in that situation
either.
Most families in this country are also a forced cohabitation of
people who can barely stand each other and have no such thing as communication.
Parents don’t really like or know each other, or have any kind of a social
interaction history with each other. Kids are like they are from another planet
altogether. I am lucky to be part of a family, both natal and my own unit,
where we actually like each other! We get along famously! Our interactions are
fun, social, and pal-like. Even in the best of circumstances, we spend hours
together playing games, giggling, laughing, making weird jokes, and so much
more! So that’s another pressure I am not feeling.
In spite of this, I am seriously restless now, reeling under
cabin fever, and seeing everyone’s nerves fraying, and feeling my own sizzling
away to almost nothing. All the “help” I have from everyone seems not enough or
wrong or misdirected, every word every tone is magnified and capable of causing
huge irritation nor pain, I have to keep reminding myself that I like these
people. That I love them. I do not think I could last through six months of
this (The UK just warned its citizens that the London lockdown could easily
last six months, I warned a friend last week that this was likely,…. Not just
there, but everywhere).
There are also fears. It is
not complete isolation after all. Fellow has been venturing out, every 2-3 days,
in the morning, to see what is available, top up supplies, and find whatever
fresh vegetables etc can be found. What this means is repeated exposure on his
part, with an immune system presumably weakened by diabetes and hypertension. This
also means a better than zero chance that he is bringing the bug home. No matter
how much he bathes as soon as he comes in, handling the stuff, the money, all
of it carries risk, for him, and for the monkey. I am trying not to think about
it too much, and just do as much as I can. Then again there is the mater, who
has asked her domestic worker to start coming in again, and has been getting
stuff almost every day via the watchman at her building. She is a high risk 75
year old. On top of this, while meds continue, for obvious (or not so obvious) reasons,
the morning walk has been indefinitely suspended in the case of the fellow. As a
diabetic, apart from the meds, the one thing keeping him fit and fine was the
10 km he walked every morning. Long term suspension of the ONLY physical
activity he has is likely to have dire consequences for health – both long term
and short term.
And then there are the terrors I am not quite looking in the eye…
that fellow and I are sort of jokingly referring to, but not really thinking too
deeply about or discussing seriously yet… because we will lose our minds if we
do. We are both freelancers. What this means is that the work we do this month,
pays for the expenses next month. We have no paychecks, we have no salary, and
we have no provident fund or pension. This was a great idea at the time we made
the change… went rogue.. and it’s worked more or less satisfactorily for the
last 3 years or so. But now… already, this month, 4 or 5 things have been
cancelled, which were to pay for the basic expenses next month (which include a
payment of 40,000 for monkey’s school). I am working on the last of three
projects right now – which will, in total, net me 20,000 early next month. So –
short term – how I am going to meet the payments for next month, I haven’t a
clue.
But the worse nightmare is the long term one. If the lockdown
extends – and it is almost certain that it will – I am basically looking at
losing all livelihood for the duration, and for however long afterwards that it
takes for things to get back to normal. I won’t begin to starve until the end
of another month or so, I have that many essentials in store, but after that I will
have neither the groceries nor the means to pay for them until the crisis ends,
plus one month (we get paid 30-45 days AFTER the work is done.) My fellow’s
work is all people related, in large groups, and face to face… one can hardly
do the kind of corporate training sessions we do – Online. Even if some part of
it can be done using tools like Zoom, companies in India are reluctant to
reimagine their training that way, and would rather just postpone the entire
thing “until things settle down”. As for my work, my clients, primarily, are
NGOs and other social organisations whose work in turn is people related, in
large groups, and face to face. These, obviously, are not happening. And unless
they happen, what am I to document, report, or write about?
I am in the unique position of being a demographic no one can
see. I am not the middle class employed, working from home Indian. I am, in essence,
in the same category as the unorganized, daily wager. The difference is – of course
– that I have a buffer of about 2 full months before I join them in their
plight. If this lasts 6 months, let alone a year, I will lose my home (mortgage
payments will not be met), I have already lost health and life cover (unable to
pay premiums), so if any of us falls ill now or in the near future – while this
lasts – we are screwed. Considering that one of us is a hypertensive diabetic…
hope is the only thing that keeps us from gibbering with sheer terror. Of course,
we may not have to worry too much about losing our home 6 months from now,
because if we cannot work next month, we do not eat the month after that. Soon after
that, we cannot buy gas, fill petrol, pay school fees, pay credit card bills.
We shall be crashing right along with the global economic crash
that this entire shebang is bringing. And I am too terrified to even think
about it properly, let alone talk about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment