The only difference between 2020 and 2021 is that zero at the end of 2020 has been replaced by one. Situations are worse than last year, people are still dying, vaccines are being stolen, the oxygen supply has ended and India has topped the charts in the maximum cases in a day. Is this the dystopia I read about in my literature classes?
All that is happening now reminds me of last year. Every feeling, emotion, and action gives me a sense of déjà vu, from watching the news to something as small as reading the cases per day.
But I guess organizing political rallies was more important than people’s lives. Everything is propaganda nowadays.
As I was reading through the newspaper, the news triggered me and took me back to last year, the situation that me and my family went through.
May 2020
The dinner table was set. Me and my brother were passing the plates around and arranging them for mummy and papa. Dinner nowadays became something of a group activity instead of individual.
“Told you it was a virus made in a lab and not naturally born” My father’s voice distracted me from my task, he showed me the post on his mobile he just read while sitting in a chair beside me.
It has been a month since the lockdown was announced. Four weeks of no social contact with the outside world. Never thought life would show such tough times.
Consequences of human actions I guess and the result of interfering with nature.
Different stories, narratives, and theories surrounding the current pandemic were clearly visible on the internet. Nations were angry, planning on not only destroying the origin of this virus but the whole country. War and capitalism were keeping the governments more concerned instead of the lives of people who were dying.
But could I blame anyone, if the government wanted to open lockdowns, and someone was commenting on the capitalist agenda of the state, aren’t they commenting that from a privileged position because there were daily wage workers who were suffering and dying not from the virus but because of hunger? These types of questions kept me awake at night because sleep didn’t come easily and there was not much to do.
Too much privileged
“Really papa, half of the crap on the internet is fake, made up by random people to spread hatred and their nasty propaganda,” I said when I completed reading the post.
Was I being naïve, dumb perhaps or ignorant but I was having a tough time believing that the virus was actually made in the lab instead of born naturally?
“Actually, it might be true, the US is investigating the matter, and they even stopped the funding of WHO because they think they are in cahoots with China and hiding the facts, but of course, its accuracy is still undetermined.” My brother chimed in between our conversation much to my dismay.
My father’s gaze narrowed at me, his look, along the lines of disappointment. “Why do you support the things and ideologies you shouldn’t”.
“Thanks for that condescending comment, and I am not supporting anyone, I am as frustrated and as angry as you are, I just don’t want war after this pandemic” I explained. “People will suffer”
“Yeah, unlike now” my father’s immediate and sarcastic comment came.
I sighed. He wasn’t wrong, not right either though. This had been a routine since Lockdown started, we all talked about everything, trying to distract ourselves by what was going around the world and project our frustrations on each other.
“I read a news article yesterday which mentioned that Asians are being targeted for the spread of this Virus,” I mentioned while eating.
“That does not make any sense,” my brother said.
“When has racism made sense, they would need a reason to exploit someone other than their own,” I said and shrugged.
“Racism is wrong but then one country’s eating habits literally are the reason for this pandemic” my father retorted.
“Wow papa, you sound like that white guy who called this virus ‘Chinese’.” I scoffed.
He shrugged and remained silent. I knew that silence.
And yet again I had no answer, what if what they were saying was true, what if this was actually the virus made up in order to be the economic superpower in the world? Blaming the whole country because of quite a few is justified?
“And here we were discussing if the Virus was made in the lab” I whispered lightly to no one in particular.
“Can we talk about an important matter at hand” my mother’s voice distracted me from my confused thoughts. “Did you sign the petition I told you about?” The question was for my brother “And what about the email, did you send it?”
“Well, as I said earlier, I am not going to do that, please don’t force me, mummy, I don’t want to do it because I am against it, and If I don’t believe in something, why would I do that” my brother said. Again, we started with another routinely discussion of our dinner.
No one said anything after that being said, hurt was clearly visible in my mother’s eyes. Along with food, there were too many unwanted opinions on the table tonight, mine to begin with and then my brother’s but again the same question arises, can I blame him?
My mother was a teacher in a school. This pandemic in some way or the other was also affecting those who thought they are free from its clutches. As the guidelines came regarding the classes by educational institutions, different problems were simultaneously taking place like in this case. Schools and other institutions were given orders to take classes online, send videos and to take upon other methods to ensure regularity in academic sessions.
But if only things could be as simple as they seemed.
I saw my mother getting up and leaving the dinner table from the corner of my eyes which was quite normal considering this happened every other day.
“You think that everyone’s life is as easy as you’ve got, people work hard, not everyone’s as privileged as you are” I heard her say as she departed in her room.
So let me explain from the beginning. I have seen my mother working hard for her job as I am sure other teachers too. Last week a meeting held online wherein the principal informed that parents are protesting and they are not ready to pay the fees, since their children are not going to schools.
This situation would’ve made sense if the parents were protesting for infrastructure and transportation fees but what about the tuition fees, it was literally the half of what they earlier used to pay, what about all the classes that had been taken online, and the videos sent?
Thus, the petition had been made and signed and emails were being sent requesting the state government to make some rules to persuade parents to not only think about themselves and consider teachers not as mere humans but also as people who were in a profession, working to make their ends meet.
My father left the table soon after my mother left leaving both of us in a situation where we were trying to understand the equation of four people living together enclosed in the house with totally different mindsets.
“I think you should sign them”. I said. “I did. You are not only making her angry everyday, but you are also in a way hurting her, she is clearly concerned already because of multiple reasons.”
“I don’t want to hurt her, even I want to help, but here I am thinking as a student, who didn’t even have one class since this lockdown started, I am waging my own war here, why does no one understands my perspective” he sighed.
“I know more than herself, she is concerned about her colleague who’s having a major family crisis, but that’s not my war to fight, you can’t possibly expect me to play for two sides, besides I don’t think so one name would make a difference. Don’t worry I don’t expect you to believe because your teachers are taking the classes”
“I don’t know if it helps but every drop counts,” I said and went to my room leaving him to his thoughts.
I wouldn’t say that today was eventful because every day was like this. If I think, my brother was right in his own way. His college was giving him a hard time, no classes, no notices. What was this, a fight between students and teachers, a fight between humans and a virus or maybe a fight between humanity and humanity?
Every single being was fighting, some with each other, some with virus, some with life and death. Who should I support, or should I even?
Another month went by, the death toll rising along with the cases, the situation becoming worse, migration in large numbers taking place, and people dying of hunger and depression.
Life has never seemed much absurd; there was nothing to look forward to, following the same routine, having the same discussions at the dinner table, and fighting for the same issues. Never thought I’d be missing simple things in life, it’s true as the saying goes, we miss things the most we least expected, I never thought I’d say this but I really miss the metro, observing people, listening to songs while travelling in public transport. Every small and insignificant detail, I realized, made life what it was.
I revived my passion for writing, if nothing this lockdown could at least prove to be beneficial for something I lost because of busy schedules. It helped in many ways, thoughts that I could share without the feeling of being judged. Now I had things to distract myself from the actual things going around in the world.
A week passed, and nothing changed, except lockdown had been replaced by unlock. Death toll still rising, people still suffering, and depression and hunger still killing people.
It’s traumatic and haunting, to say the least.
The dinner table was set. The same emotions, same frustrations, and same fears were served for the main dishes.
“I hope you’ve heard” my father started, looking at me.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I did, it is sad and hurtful”.
My father just nodded.
Twenty Indian soldiers were martyred, the eastern neighbour to be blamed, and India to cut economic ties in future that’s what the news article read. I was wrong after all.
“I am going office from tomorrow” my father said to my mother “call came informing me about the same, and…”
“But nothing is normal, how could they call you, it is not safe” I cut in.
“And it is not going to be normal for another few months but that does not mean we stopped doing work, bills are still due.”
“What about working from home?” My brother asked.
“Not accepting anymore, besides lockdown has been lifted, so all the more reasons to go”
“The only reason I know is that virus is still out there” I whispered lightly more to myself but loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Things we do for family,” My father said while smiling as he patted my head lightly.
Fear slowly crept inside me; shockingly I was experiencing this feeling for the first time. Perhaps because the contact with people all these months was negligible, so, I knew me and my family were safe but now the idea of my father going out of the house and not coming back before 8 hours was unfathomable.
I considered myself rather privileged when I used to read about people who were working amidst this pandemic to make ends meet because they could not afford to provide for themselves if they wouldn’t work for the day. I felt hurt; sad when I used to think about it but what I was feeling now was fear.
Fear was considered among the most powerful human emotions. I was scared of all the thoughts slowly creeping inside my heart. I couldn’t do anything but pray that this fear would not be the new normal.
It took a week for everything to normalize. Things were falling back in order. Of course, fear was still there but it lessened. My mother’s school was still closed as was our college, obviously because educational institutions were the last things that government would consider opening.
I saw my father entering through the entrance, his face except his eyes hidden behind the mask but unlike other days he didn’t wish me ‘good evening’ neither looked towards me. Face reading was not my forte but it seemed something was off, or maybe I was reading into it much and I am going to put that blame too on the current pandemic.
The night went by in the same way as others, and yet another morning came but there was no anticipation of how today’s going to be because the answer was known.
My mother’s face was telling me something was definitely off, I might be wrong about yesterday but not about this moment.
“What happened, papa is not his usual self” I asked. I had to; my curiosity got the best of me.
Her contemplation did not budge my determination instead I grew more impatient.
She sighed “It’s his job, your father told me his seniors are firing employees for reasons you are smart enough to know, well your father thinks he might be one of them, at least that was what he heard”
My eyes widened in shock. That was impossible not to mention wrong on a literal and moral basis. I could not utter a word. Seeing other people suffering was different but seeing family suffering was entirely on another level.
I entered my room; the news gave me a huge shock. “I see from your face that you know,” my brother asked, his face buried in his laptop.
“You knew?” I asked, surprisingly.
“Got to know a while back” I adjusted myself to sit near him to discuss the news flash that we received today but instead my gaze went to the bright screen.
“You are signing the petition and writing the mail?” I asked again, shockingly “But you didn’t want to?”
He sighed “I am not going to do anything to not help them right now, I know what I said but it’s the only thing I can do, and sometimes we have to do things for family which we didn’t want to”.
His words came like a big blow to me, they were said casually but they had a depth in them. I was not about to argue with what he said, but in a way, he was right too. I forgot all the debates, all the arguments, and all the discussions that I had with my father. He was family and I was hurt for him, there was nothing I could do that would make him feel better or help him in job related situation but the least I could do was to not hurt him.
I was hurt but angry too, I don’t know on what, current circumstances perhaps and I was ready to blame people and nations too for the present conditions but was this fear, or love that was leading me to bend my morals. Was I right, I don’t know. Was I wrong, I don’t care.
I couldn’t think of anything, just one thing that the security, love, closeness, warmth that family provides in times like these cannot match anything and I knew that my loyalty will always lie with my family.
“What can I do?” I asked after having a debate with myself.
“I don’t know” he shrugged “You could write”.
April 2021
And writing was what I did that day. It was important to highlight this issue and let the government know the issues that we were facing. That day when my father came home, I knew that he wasn’t the unlucky one but still, I developed a fear inside of me and the arrival of this strain which is more deadly than the previous one was enough to make me more fearful. Although my father wasn’t at the end of the broken bridge that day, someone else’s father was and still is so I decided to do my bit even if it is minimal. Perhaps my loyalty now exceeded its boundaries. I don’t know if it is a saying or not but I would like to believe ‘that the world becomes family in crises’ and as Papa says ‘things we do for family.’
