The scene had the signs of a Steven Spielberg movie. Sleepy-eyed, I stood in my balcony and noticed pristine, white circles outside the gate of my hospital. Intrigued, I cast my eyes further and saw the same carefully drawn circles outside the neighbouring commercial establishments, too. Relieved that I wasn’t the only one being targeted, I went down to investigate the matter. It turned out to be the state’s effort to ensure social distancing. People were expected to stand in these circles while doing their business. Needless to say, there were people in the circles, on them and outside them!
That was last year. The circles have faded away. We have limped out of the second wave and are heading towards the next. Despite the tragic toll, physical distancing remains an alien concept. Perhaps in the western world where personal space is respected and a decent distance is always maintained, moving further away was easier. But in India, we are used to standing close, literally breathing down each other’s necks. In any case, it is debatable whether the recommended ‘do gaj ki doori (Two-yard distance)’ is logistically possible. If all 1.4 billion of us were to keep this distance, wouldn’t some Indians be pushed into the sea?
In the past year, ‘masking laws’ have become stricter and the penalty for non-compliance severer. For the average Indian, this means keeping a mask handy. Not for protection but in case they are accosted by the police. These “law enforcers” themselves seldom wear the mask correctly, leaving their nose jutting out. Most Indians keep it a little lower, like some trendy chin-wear. The few who wear it correctly lower it to talk. In rural India, mask sharing is rampant. It is not uncommon to hear, “Zara apna mask diyo bahar ho kar aana hai (Please lend me your mask, I need to go out).” A rare instance where sharing is not caring.
That brings me to the last pillar of Covid-appropriate behaviour, hand washing. It should be easy to follow this instruction, one would assume. But for the vast majority of Indians living in slums and on roadsides, water is a rare commodity. Soap an unheard luxury. Earlier tiny leftover scraps of soap would make their way into the hands of the impoverished. But the advent of liquid soap has put an end to this wastage! The last drop of soap is mercilessly squeezed out and the sachet rinsed before discarding. Hand sanitisers that are supposed to protect when ‘hand washing is not possible’, hardly ever contain the recommended amount of alcohol. Prudence takes precedence here. Why throw it down the drain when it can be used to lift spirits!
{{/usCountry}}That brings me to the last pillar of Covid-appropriate behaviour, hand washing. It should be easy to follow this instruction, one would assume. But for the vast majority of Indians living in slums and on roadsides, water is a rare commodity. Soap an unheard luxury. Earlier tiny leftover scraps of soap would make their way into the hands of the impoverished. But the advent of liquid soap has put an end to this wastage! The last drop of soap is mercilessly squeezed out and the sachet rinsed before discarding. Hand sanitisers that are supposed to protect when ‘hand washing is not possible’, hardly ever contain the recommended amount of alcohol. Prudence takes precedence here. Why throw it down the drain when it can be used to lift spirits!
{{/usCountry}}Coming full circle, a favourite joke to conclude. A seasoned biker took his new motorcycle for a spin. A swaying scooter came from the opposite direction, obviously driven by a novice. The veteran tried to save him but the scooterist kept wavering and inevitably the two collided. Infuriated by the damage to his new bike, the veteran rebuked the scared scooterist. Then to get even, he drew a circle on the road and commanded the trembling man to stand in it while he proceeded to break his scooter. Every time the biker would turn his back to do so, the scooterist would chuckle. After ‘delivering justice’, the man finally asked the scooterist what was so funny. With a twinkle in his eyes, the scooterist responded, “I stepped out of the circle when you were not looking.” The average Indian is no better. He fails to understand that he harms himself by not following rules.
Will there be a third wave? Will it be as bad as the second or worse? Only time will tell. One thing is certain though. Our one-celled enemy has an edge over us. While it is constantly evolving and finding new ways to survive and flourish, we definitely aren’t. dr_manjugupta@icloud.com
The writer is a Gharaunda-based gynaecologist