All about India
The longest month in history is finally coming to an end. It’s been an enormous drag and as usual, those who suffered the most made the least noise. We are technically wading in the middle of a pandemic. Every day, we clock a higher number — in terms of confirmed cases and recorded deaths — than the day before. One way of looking at the ongoing crisis is to ask ourselves what scares us the most. Whether it’s the fact that we are fully capable of dying of a mysterious disease or is it the possibility of infecting others while we are it. As far as I am concerned, the second factor bothers me more. And this has nothing to do with benevolence. Plain practical stuff. One thing I’ve learnt from reading about COVID19 is this: it eventually leads to noisy coughing death.
Isn’t India fascinating? This is perhaps the only country in the whole world which is impossible to grasp. It’s filled with all kinds of negativity and yet, it knows how to survive. For instance, on one hand, even with such a humongous population to worry about, it has clocked less than 50 corona-related deaths so far. On another hand, it could be a symptom of greater problems later as we aren’t testing at the rate we should. For every million people, we are barely testing 30. Not to discount the strange ways in which statistics works. Unless we cover more samples, we can’t be sure who has what. It’s quite convenient to drum that COVID19 is a ‘foreign’ disease but we must accept by now its remarkable reach. A high-flying person, with a splendid travel history, can practically be a walking time bomb. The spread has to be contained before it’s too late.
Always expect religion to fuck up. Zealots, more so. Remember how the cultish Schincheonji church acknowledged its unpardonable role in corona outbreak in South Korea? Something similar is unfolding in India. As scary pieces of news tumble out of the Tablighi Jamaat meet that happened in Delhi on March 8-10, it becomes obvious how little the religious lot cares about others. By February, major events were getting canceled as dark clouds of uncertainty loomed over us. But for reasons that can’t be supported by logic or rationality, the overtly pious folks tend to rest their faith in god instead of reading the writings on the wall. Common sense dictates that an international event — featuring preachers from countries that had already registered COVID19 cases — shouldn’t have unfolded in the first place. What’s tragic about the whole affair is, Islamists gathered in that mosque with the ultimate aim of spreading their religion but ended up spreading an agnostic virus. The whole thing could have been averted if the authorities were smarter. But then, we live in a country which doesn’t care until it’s forced to care. In the organizers’ defense, they apparently followed the set protocols. The top officials who granted the go-ahead to this event are mainly responsible for the shitstorm that is unfolding in at least 7 states right now. And we thought those rustic TikTok videos — celebrating the Islamic virtue of hugging it out, set against the concept of social distancing — were dangerous!
Once this pandemic ends, whenever that is, the world will be slightly different. Perhaps there will be a better understanding of notions such as kindness, space and concern. Hopefully, we’ll pay more attention to healthcare and sanitation. There’s no way we are going to come out of this the way we went into hibernation. If we ever get to wear our shoes again, it’d be for a world that would be different in all manners of speaking. From the way business is conducted to the way services are delivered; from the way lower-rung professionals are treated to the way kids are raised; from the way words are employed to sell an idea to creating an outlet for differing viewpoints. If not, then I sincerely hope that we never leave our homes.
Coming back to India, everyday is an excuse to learn something new about ourselves. Because at the end of the day, what is India without its people? Yes, people suck. Particularly those who spent a quarter of their lives under the delusion that Hindi is India’s national language. (It’s not; we have 22 official languages though.) Or that India was not officially secular in 1947. (We didn’t include the term ‘Secular’ into our Constitution until 1976.) Or that Modi is doing a favour to us by not drawing his salary. (By law, prime minister is a pro bono job; the person gets paid as a member of Lok Sabha/Rajya Sabha.) Or that Chandigarh is a unique union territory. (Apart from being the capital city for two states, the administrator of Chandigarh is by default the Governor of Punjab; this despite the fact that Chandigarh hosts the Raj Bhavans of both Punjab and Haryana!). Or that Indian flag features only one religious element: Ashoka chakra from Buddhism. (India is also the world’s 9th largest Buddhist nation.) The list goes on and on. One day at a time.
When 2019 ended, I thought I’ll now focus on becoming a LinkedIn influencer. As you must realize by now, influence is not the same as power: it’s subtle and much more effective. I am full of arguably original thoughts; my actions don’t match my words. And LinkedIn is one of those places where words matter. With these unsubstantiated clues, I decided to post one paragraph every morning on LinkedIn from January 1, 2020 onwards. My problem is I am all over the place. One day, I am talking about friendship and the next day, I am predicting the end of the world. It’s difficult for my reader to locate my area of expertise. Turns out I am an expert in everything. There is hardly any consistency in my thought heat map. As a result, I don’t get a lot of engagement. Been three months now and I guess that’s fair enough time to concede defeat.
As I am typing this, outside our window, it’s drizzling with lightning to boot. If this isn’t climate change, I don’t know what is. I am in my 6th year of Gurgaon and I don’t remember steady unseasonal summer rains before. Even the peacocks and their harems of peahens are confused. They don’t know when to dance and when to mate. Speaking of which, when we say that peacock is the national bird of India, does that mean peahen is the national bird too? Or is it completely patriarchal? Just asking. After all, I’ve never heard anybody refer to a tigress as the national animal of India.
Being interested in a story is basic instinct. But it’s only when you pay attention to the story behind a story that you reap invaluable benefits of human experiences. JRR Tolkien took 15 years to create the enigmatic world of Lord of the Rings. Peter Jackson took 10 years to put it up on the big screen. His trilogy is a magnificent lesson in screen adaptation. So, if you are a cinephile, chances are you’d agree that the three movies have the finest stories to tell. But if you dig deeper, you’d learn that the greater stories are hidden in the making of that franchise. From Harvey Weinstein agreeing to be the producer of one film to later deciding to go with three films, from the random casting of the most diverse actors to Viggo Mortensen adopting the horse he rode in the film, and the innumerable challenges that the crew faced throughout the filming. It’s a series of life lessons in there. Those are, by any stretch of equity, spectacular stories in themselves.
Now that we are quarantined, a lot of us are waking up to the harsh realities of the kitchen. For a society that firmly believes that cooking is a woman’s job, nothing can be a louder alarm. At least to the bachelors living on their own. Young men who never bothered to hold a spatula in their lives. Without any external help in the form of domestic help, things can get dismal. I am fortunate to have a wife who is like a ballerina on a culinary stage. But that shouldn’t distill the necessity of knowing how to cook. The most basic of recipes can help you wade through such a helpless phase. Make YouTube your temporary best friend and learn how to simmer and stir. Just don’t forget to turn off the stove. You will be fine.
