Back to the Future

Now that unlock ki prakriya (the process of unlocking) is in its fourth phase, I feel brave enough to talk about the time during lockdown. The virus and the humans now seem to have got used to each other. It brings me immense solace when my doctor friend says that with time not only have we found ways to survive the attack, but the virus too has gone less virulent. Apparently the virus senses that to survive, it needs a host and if it feeds off all of them, it would lose its very existence. Wise thought though still scary!

Fortunately, most of the people I know, did not have to face difficulty of travel, major treatments or any other crisis during the lockdown period except, of course, the all-pervading sense of concern and a lot of precaution. They sometimes shared what they were doing. Whatever news was left, was filled in by the news channels which continued to make me ask back – What, now? In these days?

With the malls, stores, pubs, discos, clubs, restaurants, craft and bookstores closed, people had to rely on their own ingenuity to keep themselves and the children busy and entertained. After the initial shock, days fell into a pattern of housework, eating, complaining and some other activity. There was no sense of any idle work. No goals, nothing else to do. Nothing that made you forget to eat or sleep.

Everyone got busy. Work did not stop, only the venues changed and for a big percentage of people, it was work from home and online meetings. Yet for the rest of the time, they were so many physical things to do at home or to tackle in the mind. They were making up for the free time they had yearned for. They followed their old interests, picked up new hobbies, tried out new activities. While some carefully chose how to spend time, the others were either wayward or simply  unsure.

Cloistered in their homes, surrounded by members of the family whom they had learned to distance before this, and now willy-nilly, had to spend most of their waking hours with, they all decided that it was the right time to ‘let the passion surface’. After all, how many times can you have Happy hours in a day?

The topmost spot went to social networking. People called up children, parents, siblings, friends and relatives to ask about their well-being. They exchanged warnings or tales of vulnerability and sent audio and video messages to the ones they had not talked to for, maybe, months and years.  

The Netflix and Amazon Prime subscriptions leave not much to guess what most of us did. Binge-watching films or drama series for hours together made up for the opportunities lost of watching what we had missed or mindless watching as a perfect escape to kill time.

To find some peace, baking was a strange choice. Instagram went aflame with photos of people baking cakes, flans, Focaccia cheese-topped veggies and what not. Naturally, the viewers oohed and aahed over them and made appropriate comments.

Crème caramel flan Photo Courtesy: Lily Pandeya

Close behind was the main kitchen activity-cooking. Such creativity! Such experiments! Healthy and nutritious meals during lockdown! The impressive fact is that the whole family seemed to have jumped in with a sense of adventure.

Then there were the ones who took great care of their mental health. They fed their minds with reading and writing or listening to music. They made and released online music videos. They played board games and solved puzzles.

They reminded you of the great minds who had done remarkable work during the quarantine days in the 16^th and 17^th century. 

Source: https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/620764/productive-people-in-quarantine

When bubonic plague hit Florence in 1348, father and stepmother of Florentine writer and poet Giovanni Boccaccio succumbed to the disease. Boccaccio survived the outbreak by fleeing the city and hiding out in the Tuscan countryside. During this period, he wrote The Decameron, a collection of novellas framed as stories a group of friends tell each other while quarantined inside a villa during the plague.

When the plague hit London in  1592, playwright Thomas Nashe fled to the English countryside to avoid infection. This was the same time he wrote Summer’s Last Will and Testament, a play that reflects his experiences living through the pandemic. One famous passage reads:

Adieu, farewell earths blisse,
This world uncertaine is,
Fond are lifes lustful joyes,
Death proves them all but toyes,
None from his darts can flye;
I am sick, I must dye:
Lord, have mercy on us.

Shakespeare was an actor and shareholder with The King’s Men theater troupe when the bubonic plague forced London theatres to close in the early 17th century. The official rule was that after weeks, when the death toll crossed 30, public playhouses had to shut down. This meant that the theatre industry was paralyzed for much of 1606 when the plague returned to the city. After suddenly finding himself without a steady job and lots of free time, Shakespeare got to writing. He composed King Lear, Macbeth, and Antony and Cleopatra before the year was over.

In 1665, when Isaac Newton was in his early 20s, one of the last major outbreaks of the bubonic plague hit the country. Classes at Cambridge University were cancelled, so Newton retreated to his family estate roughly 60 miles away to continue his studies there. The young mathematician produced some of his best work during his year in quarantine, writing the papers that would become early calculus and developing his theories on optics while playing with prisms in his bedroom. This was also the time when his theory of gravity germinated.

The Scream painter Edvard Munch contracted Spanish flu around the beginning of 1919, while living in Norway. But instead of becoming one of its many victims, Munch lived to continue making great art. As soon as he felt physically capable, he gathered his painting supplies and began capturing his physical state. Self-Portrait with the Spanish Flu shows him with thinning hair and a gaunt face sitting in front of his sickbed. (Wikipedia Commons)

                     The Scream by Edvard Munch

Similarly, in recent times, some people let loose their creative sides to draw, paint or sketch. This included the thousands of children who had to be kept out of their parents’ hair during this period 24×7 company with no respite. The online sale of paints, crafts material and subscription of videos soared.

I was relieved that the Chinese apps were banned because it put a stop to the continuously pinging of my phone with the tik-tok videos of poor jokes and husbands motion-photographed doing the household chores as evidence of creativity.

The houses of God on the street corners went silent and so the flowers which were duly plucked daily to be offered to them, bloomed and the birds sang.  These could have been great opportunities for ambitious photographers but alas, the only photos I was treated to, were of everything else.

Some others made good use of the time in organizing the house. Though sadly, there was almost no one who seemed to share my interest in needlework.

People took care of their plants in the broiling heat. They took the pets out and I was not surprised to see some so far unseen characters in our building being pulled by the leash as the happy dogs took them out for a walk.

With the gyms, parks, tennis and squash courts closed, the fitness conscious people took to yoga and exercises inside the house to keep their bodies healthy and agile. The YouTube views on the dance videos also became a popular choice.

Those who had a pair of running shoes and some ground to cover did some walking or running, and with the earphones emanating music they could enjoy some alone moments of fun and activity.

Not only that, with the golf courses closed, people like K S Asla, blessed not only with the sportsman’s heart, but good joints and enthusiasm too, chose to cycle during the morning hours of lockdown relaxation. And believe me, in the Chennai summer too!

IRAS officer K S Asla (in blue) and his cycling buddy Sanjay Aryavir, ex coast guard Lt Cdr                                          

                   Photo Courtesy: K S Asla

“Tum itne din baad mile…Bolo itne din kya kiya (You have met after many days…Say, what did you for so many days?), asked the beautiful Dimple Kapadia from Jackie Shroff in the Hindi movie Ram Lakhan, albeit in typical Bollywood style with lyrics, music, dance and much flicking of her heavy mane. And to a romantic’s delight, naturally, the suave hero replied, tera naam liya, tujhe yaad kiya (Took your name, remembered you). Alas, nothing so great happened in my life during the lockdown or later. I continue to be as scared as I was on March 24, that I dare not take ‘the’ name lest God forbid, it should feel that I am calling it.

I am among those harmless creatures who prefer a peaceful quiet life somewhere in one spot of this planet. So in the midst of the pandemic, the cyclone, floods, earthquakes, issues like survival of Rajasthan Government, the frequent social gatherings organized by or for the political elders in the southern states etc., I just stuck to the mundane and the ordinary activities.

I did not contribute to any more earth-shaking moments for the sake of the rest of my species. I existed during the lockdown and yes, worried, incessantly at that, about my present and future health, that of my dear ones whether near or afar, and wondered how they survived not just the threat but the fear too of this unforeseen time.

In my ordinary life baking and cooking have to be followed by a great deal of washing up. With the maid not coming, I stuck to preparing simple food, in the name of health, homemade and nutrition. For me the only sorrow was that family packs of instant noodles had disappeared from the sellers’ stocks before I could think of them.

The practical side of my brain also warned me when good times return I’d have neither the inclination nor the energy to regularly serve gourmet meals. Not only that, to burn up all that flour, butter and sugar, I would have to move my bums, surely not a welcome thought in this heat and humidity. My excuse – no one enjoys failed experiments in food served. In fact, from the pictures I received, nobody ever talked about whether the cake was soft, the others asked for a second helping of the dish or actually suggested that this be made more often.   

I guess instead of jab main chhota bachcha tha (when I was a small kid) stories would now begin with jab lockdown hua tha (when there was the lockdown), everyone would have his version to tell about that time.

Only I would announce with confidence that was the only time in my life I really got scared for you, and for me!

                                                                     Now, that is me!

                                           …

Look for humour, for good things, for hope, for the silver lining, suggest the wise whatsapp forwards. I do not have to give it any thought. My silver lining is- everybody is washing hands. In these difficult times of dreaded COVID 19, which has taken hundreds of precious lives and affected millions in body and mind, the life-saving instruction is- Don’t wash your hands off washing your hands.

In a non- COVID situation I would have been shamelessly gleeful if on their own people started to wash hands, properly and often, with soap. Wow! Sadly, now they are being forced to learn it to stay healthy, to keep the virus at bay.

No, I am neither a doctor, nor a health worker, nor do I work for a soap/detergent company. But most of my life I have had a constant struggle with trying to convince or make sure that people, especially those around me whether employed or eager to help, wash hands before touching anything – food, utensils, water bottles, ice, refrigerator, clean clothes, babies or even me. They have felt as if they were doing me a big favour by giving in to my crazy whim of using soap too with water. It has caused a slight bitter aftertaste to the others, maybe soiling of my relations with them too, but then doesn’t everything fresh and clean come with a price tag?

Last year we went to the hospital to visit the newborn grandson of RJ, a close friend. (I understand it is safer to leave newborns alone but the fear of hurting the family’s sentiment took over.) As the baby was brought in from the nursery, a beaming RJ distributed cash to the staff around him as reward and then turned to dip his finger in the spoonful of honey to give the customary first lick to the newborn. (Doctors tell us honey can be dangerous to newborns as it might contain botulism spores, causing serious respiratory problems.) As a reflex I asked aapne haath dhoye (Did you wash your hands)? He said, “Yes”. I said, “Par aapne to note chhuye they. (But you touched the notes.) His wife, a deeply religious lady and who I am very fond of, with a hint of irritation in her voice said, “Us se kya hota hai, who to paise hain.” (How does that matter? That is money.) Forced by habit, I carried on, “Pata nahin kis kis ne chhuye they.” (We don’t know who had touched them before that.) Fortunately, his son, the baby’s father, stopped the conversation at that point, insisting that his father wash his hands before the ritual and I quietly slipped out of the room to escape the repercussions of the scene.

Ma was the inspiration 

As a child, I saw my mother hundreds of thousands of times. She would stand at the kitchen sink with a bar of soap slowly rubbing her hands over it, turning it over and over under a thin stream of running water, then making a little balloon of foam, rubbing her hands and then the tap, before standing the bar under the water stream to wash it, placing it in the dish, again washed a couple of time daily, then washing the lather off her hands and the tap. She would then cup her hand, fill it with water, close the tap with one hand and pour the water on the other hand to wash that hand. Yes, you are right, the whole process took a few minutes. Anything one asked for, the common refrain was “Ma haath dho lengi, tab. (After Ma has washed hands).

Go to the bathroom, wash your hands and face with soap before going to bed, immediately after getting up as also after entering the house, were the habits I just followed and never questioned. Washing did not mean mere rinsing with water but right and proper with soap.

My father was a vet who treated dogs, cats, other small animals and birds. So every time he examined an animal, he would go and wash his hands. There was no competition between the two parents in the matter of washing hands because of course, Ma was the winner by several and needless to say, longer sessions.

Of course, my mother had taken her fetish to sublime levels. If a freshly washed garment fell on ground due to wind, or while taking it off the line, off it went to the laundry pile, to be washed again. Similar fate was assured for a clean utensil which slipped out of the hand and fell on the floor. To avoid that I became an expert in catching a utensil mid-air before it could land in a crash or removing clothes from the line without dropping them.

She had inherited this from her mother. My grandmother taught by French nuns in her school in Rangoon, trained us kids how to sit with our hands in our laps or in the folds of the shawl and not to touch anything unnecessarily.

As we grew up, the availability of 24- hour running water became a thing of the past in Chandigarh, and the supply was regulated. So a huge bucket washed early in the morning and filled with water, was kept near the sink for washing hands.

The preferred way was to ask another member of the family to pour the water but if you had to do it alone, there was a rule. The mug had to be hung inside the bucket with the handle outside so that by no mistake a drop of soapy water would fall in the water. Luckily, the Sintex days came but no doubt, the tank was also washed regularly and refilled.

And all this while, no fancy perfumed or cream bars, just Lifebuoy, with its famous carbolic soap USP. We were a frugal bunch, but when it came to Lifebuoy, it was bought in dozens. If there was one thing, which surely did not invite any reprimand, it was the excess use of soap.

Washing hands was something which came naturally in the family. Before starting homework, especially any drawing, picking up your knitting or embroidery, you washed hands, so that the work in progress was not soiled. You also washed hands after oiling or combing your hair or body, putting on or taking off socks and shoes, doing a household chore, working on experiments in gardening or touching our naughty Samoyed. The rigour was not followed by any hand lotion application. Clean hands meant clean and that is that. Believe me, I do not even remember the existence of hand lotions in my childhood. Charmis cream was the thing in our house but you do not touch anything with cream on hands, or do you? (It would attract dust.)

But now knowing of the WHO 20-second rule for washing hands with soap and water in 2020, I feel vindicated. Finally there is one thing I have doing right all my life after all.

Test of others 

So did they wash hands became my standard of hygiene while evaluating people. The earliest memory is my favourite aunt coming back from the market and immediately making balls of kneaded dough without washing her hands to help my mother make rotis. The look on my mother’s face is etched in my brain. For me, it was with great difficulty that I swallowed the roti that my friend made, after merely rinsing her hands with water, shaking the water droplets off her hands just as we came back from the tailor’s. And thousands of times, idle hands of people patting their hair, touching the inside or outside of their ears or nose, picking their teeth with their nails or cleaning the dandruff out of them, touching or playing with their pets, clapping mosquitoes to death, men scratching,.…. and then touching something else, yuk!  

(In fact, the sad decision of not to keep a dog even though I love most breeds, is due to the cruel fact that I’d go crazy washing hands after touching it, feeding it, or playing with it.)

Maybe the habit of eating with hands does give more satisfaction. But why do people – (mostly) men take the namkeen from the bowl or the packet, or jhal muri from the cone in their hand first, before they aim it into their mouths. Hands are dusted on the sofa fabric. The cleaner ones might wipe them on a napkin or handkerchief. And then, they go about their usual business. Who washes hands after eating popcorn in the cinema or golgappe on the street? Everybody touches the notes, doors, railings, goods in the stores.

Ever seen anybody washing hands after touching currency notes, even if they look very soiled and stained? The valuable pieces of paper have passed the invaluable hands and thumbs touched with spit of people with respiratory, skin, oral, infections. Are they clean? 

Have you ever been left with a burning sensation because somebody ate something with chillies in it with hand or smoked a cigarette before they shook hands with you? Several years ago I went for a dental X-ray in a clinic set up in a house. The technician thrust the tiny piece of film inside my mouth and as the edges dug into my jaw, her fingers reeking of garlic stung my gums, my eyes watered and my throat let out a squeaky protest. I am sure she had not washed her hands before she left the kitchen.

I am told a bar of soap is the old fashioned way of washing hands. The safer more hygienic way is liquid soap in a squirt bottle.  Of course, the squirt is better because you do not touch the nozzle. Yet, the two doctors I checked with said a bar is no less clean and safe. It keeps dissolving so the next person is not washing his hands in your germs. The detergents in liquid soap might even be stronger so that a drop is enough, but that can be harsher on your skin. And companies which sell both bar and liquid soap with the same name do not ever try to tell you that their own bar is inferior to their liquid product.

Sanitizers, we are told, are a healthier option. But does everyone use enough amount to wet the whole hand? It is convenient to carry small bottles when going out, take a couple of drops of the perfumed liquid in palm, rub it on the palms which makes me wonder if the hands have indeed been touched by the liquid.

Some years ago a pranic healing practitioner had insisted on an alternative sanitizer made of 1/3 volume each of vodka, rose water and water. She, however, did not appreciate my remark that vodka has better uses and should be replaced by the cheaper option of soap.

To give credit where it is due, people as a rule wash their hands before saying their prayers, though not with soap necessarily.As Dr Internet has said– Wash your hands and say your prayers because God and germs are everywhere.

Maybe post-COVID times on this planet would see more hand washing or would they just be forgotten meme 2020 resume se missing hai kyonki hum sirf sabun se haath dho rahe they. (The year 2020 is missing from my resume because I was merely washing hands with soap.) and then wash them only on the Global Handwashing Day (October 15).