Lessons From The Virus!

The world outside has never seemed so beautiful as now, seen on the other side of my window. For the past year or so, a lot of us have got to experience what life must have been like in a zenana—whose predominantly female inhabitants never ever really stepped outside for most of their lives. They had to make do with limited space and limited company, with all its concomitant drawbacks. The only difference is that our confinement will not be lifelong. Hopefully.

Never have I appreciated the world outdoors more than through the bars of my window for the past few months, first due to lockdown regulations and now, more recently, because of my own bout of Covid. I can now understand the longing of birds in cages and animals in enclosures even more acutely than before. I have always hated zoos; I despise them even more now.

The modalities of living 24/7 in the same company have suddenly become apparent to many people for the first time. There is a realisation of the importance of compromise and adjustment, the benefits of patience and forbearance, the indispensability of love and hope. This was the wisdom of previous generations that we had forgotten or, perhaps, never learnt.

The advantages of an “advanced” society had made us rather impervious to familial and societal accommodation. My way or the highway—for ourselves and others—was an eminently actionable life mantra, with adaptation and compromise being deemed cop-outs rather than the obvious modus vivendi. Covid incarceration has forced us to re-evaluate this.

Reacquainting themselves with people in their own homes during the months of total lockdown has been an invaluable experience for many. Concern for friends, neighbours and colleagues similarly incarcerated out-of-sight has revived ties that may have frayed or faded under the pressure of ‘normal’ lives and routines. There has been a reaffirmation of our interconnectedness.

For, as this unpredictable virus tears through not only human bodies but our unhealthy health system too, it has become glaringly evident that we are all equally disadvantaged and the only things that can save us is mutual help and the power of faith. That we are not self-sufficient and all-powerful has been brought home to us in the most frightening and brutal way.

While the more fortunate among us have opted for self-exile within our homes, millions of others still have to step out for their livelihoods, braving the uncertainty of what is now being seen as an airborne contagion. The fortitude of such people must be saluted. They are no less valorous than our ancestors who sallied forth to a battle of unknown, mighty enemies.

That the vaccination programme has finally been altered to focus on first shots—for the younger lot, who comprise our workforce—instead of the second (for the older ones) is akin to providing these intrepid warriors with some degree of protection. The psychological benefit of having at least one dose of the vaccine is immeasurable because fear is a formidable obstacle.

Indeed, venturing out after a run-in with Covid—or just the apprehension of contracting it—is not easy. It is as if along with attacking the respiratory system and other organs, the virus also robs us of our self-confidence and the will to brave what lies beyond our homes, even though work and duty call. Speaking from experience, fear is a most potent after-effect.

The world outside—sunshine, scudding clouds, trees, neighbourhood bylanes—has never seemed so beautiful as now, seen on the other side of my barred window, even though I know that the danger of the virus has not diminished. There is fear and yet there is longing. Is this what the women of the zenana felt even after a lifetime indoors, I wonder.

(Source: Reshmi R Dasgupta in Silk Stalkings, India, Lifestyle, ET)