The worldwide Corona infection cases stand at 4.5
million with 300,000 fatalities. Stealthily the number is creeping up in India
also, like water oozes out of the cracks in a dam. Let’s hope the dam doesn’t
give away altogether! India is almost like a raw fodder for the fiery virus. If
it goes out of control, the loss in other countries will lose its meaning. They
will consider themselves lucky, if god forbid the virus actualizes its full
evil potential in India.
As of now, we have 75000 cases with 2300 casualties.
On a positive note, a third of these have recovered completely, making the recovery
rate at 33%, which creates many hopes. May be, the exposure to bugs, bacteria
and virus in the filth and squalor of routine struggle on the mundane stage of
life has bestowed herd immunity to we Indians. The virus appears to have a sadistic
pleasure in tormenting the sanitized, cleaner cultures. Well, the poor have
their own diseases, so have the rich. But that doesn’t mean we should go all
dirty. The importance of hygiene and cleanliness has been understood well, even
by those who barely understood the difference between latrine box and altar.
Pop Diva Madonna is reported to be very happy after
months of sulking and suffocating the interiors of her house. Tests have given
the good news. She has the antibodies for the ill-famed virus. It means the
bastard may not be fatal to her. She is thus ecstatic to go on a long drive in
the scary Covid-19 air. She can now afford to roll down the windows and feel
the kiss of air on her youthful cheeks. She has the protective gear inbuilt in
her system against the enemy, which will fail to ambush her. Happy for her that
she is going to have a sip of freedom at last! Haven’t we turned freedom too
costly? The freebies of nature—the air, the water, open skies, pristine forests—have
been chucked out in greed. Now is the time to pay for the loot. The rationing
has started. Take care!
In India, the swashbuckling Lockdown 3.0 is a hugely
costly affair. There is a categorization of red, green and orange zone. Life is
supposed to take to cautious steps first in the green zones without any known
Corona cases, followed by Orange where there are just few cases to be followed
by the lugubrious steps in the scary red ones. But it’s very dicey. Let there
be the slightest mistake and the lights may change colors. Well, we have been
used to the play of lights at traffic signals. The green gives such a sense of
relief. Let there be a green signal for all to move again. The red light has
been too long and tortuous. Well, traffic rules sometime help in running the
country also, apart from managing the road traffic. It means all this is a
mammoth journey only.
During the lockdown, every life saved comes at the
cost of crores of rupees. Life has been undeservedly too much monetized. Let’s
now learn to define life and living in non-monetary terms also. It will help
us, believe me.
Those at the lowest rung in the socio-economic ladder
are suffering miserably. Their painfully set up homes and hearth are gone in a jiffy
in the cities. People are walking back to their roots. A horrible reverse
migration has started. How long we can expect them to stay stranded in ghettos
without job and other basic minimum facilities of common life. Poverty has been
pushed further into a darker corner. Even the miserable life of earlier appears
rich in contrast. Only after losing what we possess, we come to realize the
importance of the tiny blessing we earlier had!
Government has started special trains to take them
home. They are the fatigued, defeated and lacerated soldiers who fought for our
development in cities. Millions and millions want to escape from the imperiled urban
fronts in the war. A train can adjust only 1200 passengers, where will the rest
go? Getting a ticket appears like the biggest lottery. There is a provision for
online booking. Even among the poorest of the poor, the luck will favor the
better ones. I mean those selected few who have a smartphone and know how to
make an online booking. So the moment the booking opens, the seats are taken by
the more privileged among the poorest of the poor. It leaves millions who don’t
have a phone. They have to choose other options by default. The best option by
default is to start walking to one’s home that is more than a thousand
kilometer away. A leap of faith! An escape from the ignominy of being stranded
meaninglessly! At least you walk. You do something at least!
People get driven by rumors and stand in front of railway
stations. They wait for the train that isn’t even scheduled. They but have to keep
their hopes alive. Corona cannot rob them of their hope of a train. They stand
in miles long queues for days. Social distancing loses its meaning. Poor
migrant workers are paying lump-sum from their miserly savings to hitch
clandestine rides in goods trucks. Sometime police topples the cart. Stranded
in the middle, they hardly have any clue to what and why of future. We can
measure loss in monetary terms, but who will calculate the silent, unchronicled
miseries of millions who suffer in the dark, unknown chambers of this
battlefield.
Destiny plays cruel jokes. You pay for an illegal
travel in a goods truck, brave all legal risks and pay like you are paying airfare.
You are lucky to cross almost a 1000 Km and just 350 Km away from the sweet
native soil. You are ready to forget the miseries for that safe and secure
feeling of reaching your place. Corona-infected destiny but still plays the
spoilsport. It derails the journey indirectly. The vehicle meets an accident.
Many get injured and those able to walk continue with their journey on foot.
Can you believe, autos have been hired to travel 1200 Km. A family had just
started counting the countdown Kms to home and the tiny three-wheeler meets an
accident. A woman and a small girl die and others grievously injured lie in a
hospital. We definitely reach home, but which ‘home’ it is always decided by
some mischief mongers that stay invisible to us.
A small group of workers spends their entire savings
earned through the soot, grease and grime of an urban toil to purchase cycles.
People would still not lose a chance to earn money. Profit and loss is the only
way we can think these days. Under distressed purchase, the rickety cycles are
sold at an exorbitant rate. They don’t have any option. The poor workers buy
and start on the arduous journey, going hungry, and being harassed by police at
borders. The most they can ask from God at this juncture is that the tyres bear
till they reach their villages. Humm, some migrant workers are caught hiding in
the concrete mixer. I pray they don’t start the mixer by accident and mix human
flesh with concrete. Well, it always has been mixed to set up the shiny
edifices. But all that is done in subtle manners, indirectly. Doing it in
letter will turn out to be too gory a sight. Let it stay in spirit only.
The house owners throw away the laborers for not
paying rents. A house owner thinks in a typically legal way that he is entitled
to the rent at any cost, under any circumstances. Well, law is on his side. The
law is helpless beyond the strictly theoretical boundary on the paper. Is it Law
only that we need to manage our society? Well, machines have an all-Law
society, not humans. As the mechanics of Law take over our functioning, our
mechanization will surely take us to the threshold of a dehumanized, artificial
intelligence driven society. It would then be better to do archaeological
search for the real man like we search for dinosaur skeletons now.
People walk on foot. The soles blistered. The already
misshapen, abused feet getting lacerated to take crooked animal shapes! A hard
crust of misery and helplessness stuck to their faces. Will they be able to
smile at ease in future? It will take a long time if ever they will. They have
few provisions, so few that a house will look empty with them. But whatever
they have is the unavoidable essentials without which one can’t survive
possibly for more than a day. So they cannot afford to abandon even these. They
stack up their provisions in gunny sacks and begin on foot. The provisions are
too little for a little house, but these are too heavy for a human head. They
look like famished beasts of burden. They lumber ahead impassively, like
jombies. Smallest feet learn to walk. Toddlers held in their arms. The bitter
lessons for the youngest generation. Pregnant women walk with the extra load of
maternity. A woman gives birth on the way and still has the courage to walk
another 150 Km after the delivery. Salutes O Mother!
There are still luckier ones among this unlucky
horde. Some have bikes. They load their entire family and provisions on the
bike, yank a jibe at a small car, and move out on thousand plus kilometer
journey. They have to dodge Corona. They have to dodge police also. Some have
carrier rickshaw loaded with their sacks and take turns to ride and the rest
run by the side. We have been condemned to move. We are shifty and restless. We
have the curse to move at any cost.
Those were the happy days when the Caravan had
stopped by the busy outskirts of Sonipat. The caravan of wandering nomadic
ironsmith is bigger than you expect these days. They are the stateless subjects
of India. They still survive on the fringes without most of the rights that we
take for granted. They still have sturdy wooden ox carts. The trace of
modernity, however, is visible through their well-hammered bike carrier
contrivances. The torso of a bike is welded to a tiny carrier behind. The carrier
frame has their typical nail-headed gypsy pattern. Well, we give it all to
retain our identity. How do they survive now with their movement, their life
literally, stopped? It’s like a fish without water. I hardly have any clue.
Their only right is the right to move. Corona has taken away even that. Right
opposite the road, the district administration allows vegetable stalls during
the early morning for 2-3 hours. That is the time when the gypsies smell the
scent of humanity. People hurry across the city till 7 in the morning to muster
up enough to see through the day. And the caravan lies on the fringes, bearing
the slap on its face for a sin that it isn’t even involved in. The curse is
born of the sedentary culture. What do they have to do in all this?
All health establishments from a quack to a Harvard
returnee doctor are usually crammed to the gills with patients, throughout the
year, all ways, almost all hours and even minutes. It would make one wonder how
come literally everyone is sick. Under the lockdown, my only query is: where
are all those perpetual patients? All these neighborhood clinics and nursing
homes and quack shops are empty and out of business. And surprisingly, the
mortality rates haven’t gone up due to the shortage of these services. Haven’t
we got habituated to fall sick and run to get medicines? I mean, you have the
markets crammed with consumer items and most of the times we just buy even when
we don’t need the things urgently. With health services scattered all around,
possibly we itch like a consumer to avail their services somehow in a
consumerist mode.
Well, silver lining at last. The big, fat,
cumbersome and earthshaking Indian weddings are postponed. Less population
growth rate at long last. Hail Corona at least on this! But then you have
gallants still out there to hit the bed of matrimony. There are virtual marriages
through Whatsapp video calls. The groom then takes his princess on a bike. Some
take pheras in masks. Well, in a
typical arranged marriage in India, the bride and groom hardly know anything
about each other. With masks on, it must be like two aliens getting married, I
mean a Maritan and an Earthling! And where is social distancing on the conjugal
night!?
WHO that has turned into CHO is again and again
parroting about the natural cause of the virus. It’s a well fed parrot that has
been crammed to the guts with monetary chilies by its patron China. The WHO is
praising China’s efforts in managing the pandemic—can you believe it, the world’s
premiere health body is praising a country whose secrecy and mismanagement has brought
humanity to such a disaster. Their economic clouts will help them more than
their nukes. Why then waste so much of economy over redundant whales that are buried
in bunkers. Use the same money to strengthen the economic clout.
They but won’t even mention Taiwan, the country who
has set up the best example how to manage the virus: Just 400 plus cases and
only 8 deaths. Can you believe it? The WHO but, under Chinese influence, doesn’t
even invite them at meetings to share their expertise. All those who are eager
to bring China to the dock should recognize Taiwan as a sovereign nation. The
redgurads aren’t as much afraid of a nuke strike as they are of a sovereign
Taiwan. There are always better means to bring the evil to book because the
evil leaves many chinks in its armor through its own nature, inevitably.
People hardly have the guts to visit the friendly
neighborhood barber. His effacing smile is hijacked by the Corona sinister
grin. With his hands twisting your chin, cheeks, nose and head, he appears like
a Corona-hobnobbing yamdoot. Hair
styling is gone down the winds. People are no longer dancing on the excited
stage of life, so glitz and glamour has frizzled out. Bald is the most popular
hairstyle. And people manage it with their own trustable trimmer. And believe
me, going bald hasn’t shaken the universe as one apprehended earlier. Doesn’t
it mean that most of our sophistication is born of our mind’s construct? Convenience
fetches simplicity and more peace. Saloon keepers beware; you may be required
to take up other professions.
Well, the communal spinoff of Corona keeps doing the
rounds now and then. Media launched a well-managed witch-hunt for finding the
Corona and Islamic links. There were a few mischief mongers, but their over-enthusiasm
resulted in the entire community being maligned. Who suffers? The common Muslim
by birth who has to come out for a living and who has no role in the greater
games of religion. In Lucknow, hotspots have been named after mosques. It’s an
effort to throw chilies into the smoldering fire. Far away in the UAE, two
expatriate Indians are sacked from their jobs for posting Islamophobic social
media content. The OIC also puts up a notice against India for the current Islamophobic
environment in India. They may have sensed something to arrive at the
conclusion. But how can they stay blind to what China is doing to Uighur
Muslims? Business is the only belief and faith of mankind. All other kinds of religion
and Gods are merely the conceptions to sustain the business god.
Federalism is at its best as of now. The central
cabinet is gone into a huddle and virtual instructions are almost symbolic. The
states manage their fiefdoms and so do the district administrations. With
politicians gone into a pondering huddle, the bureaucracy is functioning at its
best. We have seen a little glimpse of a non-politicized bureaucratic functioning
for some time. It isn’t disappointing I tell you. With the political mind just focused
on Corona, the honest officers get a lucky lease to operate as per their
talent. Karnataka state government must be feeling very relaxed and unchained
as they issue an instruction for the online application to enter or exit the
state. Aren’t all these boundaries our mind constructs? Now Karnataka border is
as good as an international border, at least in effect.
Kim Jong has been seen. Or was it is his double?
There is speculation. Well, whether it’s fake or real, the medal he receives is
surely genuine. President Putin has awarded the North Korean dictator a World
War 2 commemorative medal. Is it an honor from one pseudo dictator to another
real one? In effect both are the same. But just imagine, wearing one’s heart on
sleeve gets one into? Pseudo has benefits of a world leader; real face gets
bricks of tyranny.
At long last, the African countries are realizing
the parasitic relationship with China. Trapped in debt and attacked with racial
slur, there are voices of dissent. Hope better sense will prevail and the
rulers there will think of subjects instead of just getting Swiss accounts hitting
the vaults in hobnobbing with China.
Well, misfortune of millions usually results in the
fortune of the few. Same will happen post-pandemic. The stampede tramples the
weakest. The fortunate ones usually stay afloat to mint more money out of the
miseries. The international drugs and pharmaceutical cartels will of course
make huge money. The poor will just think of gathering their scattered sinews
after the storm. The wealthy ones find new opportunities as life and living
will take onto course again.
And finally the booze gets unleashed. How long it
could have been contained? A liquorless India is almost unrecognizable. It’s no
India at all! The masses lynched by the agonies of survival hit the bottle to
forget past, present and future after the back breaking toil and the state
mints money. No wonder all drunkards contribute so massively to the cause of
nation building. The revenue from the liquor is too massive for the government
to even think of people going without the potion of forgetfulness. With all industries
closed during the lockdown, and the sources of revenue drying up, the
government fell back upon the kind, old booze. Now all social distancing norms
fell flat. Where is the Muslim-hunting media? All of these are Hindus? Is a
crowd of Hindus less risky for Corona than a Muslim crowd? Think of it. And
please save yourself from the sins of sowing the seeds of another partition of
the country down the line.
So the happiest news of the past few weeks hits the
screen. Wine shops open. The boozers hit the ceilings in ecstasy. Worried wives
and children meanwhile curse the government. Many women even protested against
the opening of the wine outlets. But modern society means business only. No one
can stop the wine industry. The customary rounds of domestic violence start
again. The peace is broken. A man may think for ten days about spending money
on his children’s books, but instinctively runs with all his savings to
purchase wine. Empty pockets suddenly get money from somewhere. There are miles
long queues. The business has started. India is back on the track. The economy
has taken up. The wine has the power of drawing money out of the most miserly
pockets.
A man is showering flowers at our nation-builders as
they wait in hot summers with money in their pockets and the will to make India
great again. ‘You are the economy of our country!’ he says. They stand with a mixture
of pride and embarrassment. The government is also eager to help them
contribute more for nation building. There is an extra cess to the tune of 70%.
They are happy to pay. Let there be a 10 paisa increase in petrol prices, many
voices cry foul. The wine pandemic has the capability to beat the poor Corona
Pandemic.
Geeta and Ramayan are to be shown on JNU campus.
Mythology pill served to cure the ancient scourge of communism on the campus.
As the world frantically searches for a cure to Corona, the government is
helplessly trying to find a cure for the indomitable campus bug at the JNU. It’s
very obstinate and is stuck up at the political khadi like an angry nettle thorn.