The New Normal

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

The new normal is to live with fear. Wear the mask when you leave home. When you come back throw away the dress in the wash drum. Sanitize your hands. Wash your face, legs - even shoes. The vegetables you brought from  the market must also be washed in warm water. Maintain a distance of two yards from everyone in the family - wife, children, parents, servants. Never allow anyone into your home. Practice Yoga at home. Watch Yoga videos or programmes on TV. 'Watch Astha Channel' friends advise( over phone). If you follow the instructions of Baba Ramdev your immunity will increase. The damned virus cannot attack you, even if it does you will not be seriously affected. Never go out for morning jogging  or your dog walk: Walk on your terrace. Never spit on public places etc, etc. The Ministry of Health spokespersons  warn everyday, channels repeat the message  a dozen times a day. Newspapers warn everyday. The World Health Organization too gives this handwashing, masking, social distance maintaining mantra as the panacea for  this Corona pandemic.

All this is for life; to avoid the hospital bed, the ICU, the Ventilator and the unclaimed state of your body if you die. And life means mere living, prolonging your moments on this planet by distancing yourself from your dear ones. If your mother develops temperature you panic how to take her to the hospital. You have no driver, Ola - Uber services are not available, the hospital ambulance or some govt vehicle may arrive after twenty calls to the given numbers. Finally if she gets admitted in a  hospital you cannot attend your dearest patient. Your wife would refuse standing six feet away from you. You cannot approach any neighbours - your bridge friends, your peg up friends, your colleagues and cousins- for fear insulates all human hearts against the divine values of sympathy, compassion and love. Fear binds your feet from moving towards your dead dear ones with whom you had spent a life time.

The towns are dark, gloomy  and empty. Roads are blank deserted and eerie. At times you see migrant workers families walk in the hot sun with kids on shoulders and bags in hand. The women too sweat out as true and devoted followers of their hungry, penniless and betrayed men who walk thousand miles to their homes and secure environs with hope and faith. All this for dear life - to keep base life afoot. The masters they served in the distant lands, the skills they exhibited did not deserve sympathy or help. But are they welcome at home, sweet home , for which they braved the angry sun and hazardous asymmetrics? No, the pandemic has emptied all juices of humanity from the human heart. But you can't complain. The Corona days will be like this. You will work from home. Sitting before a computer  in casuals you will do the biddings of your boss. Uncertain of salary you will certainly please or pretend to please your pay masters.

If you are a superannuated person you have few options.  The temples are closed. Parks are closed. tea addas too are closed.  Your septuagenarian friends are no more available within the limited elbow room you have. You can read newspaper or books if you are a bookish type. If not sit before the TV and watch retros of old epics  and mythologies. If your mind does not that way tend you can throw tantrums at your wife. Shout half articulated expletives at the inefficiency of Governments at handling Corona Crisis. Find fault with everything- the lockdown and the  Unlock I. You may ring up your old colleagues and admirers, if any, and pester them with questions like,(a) Is it God's way of punishing human arrogance? Why shouldn't Govt. do something for the middle class? Why should we pay taxes when Govt. is incapable of handling a crisis? How could China be so inhuman? The land of Confucius and Daisaku Ikeda has gone bunkers, does China want to have a world empire?

And if you are in love, if you are a true life -time lover you will find sunrise, sunset the crescent moon- all mocking birds in flight, they come unobserved as you wait for the call of your soulmate. The mobile phone is the only sun -moon to brighten her face. Her voice warbles in your ears like Cuckoo's. You know she is on the other side of daylight, in the deeper recesses of the seven seas. She does not tiptoe on the horizon teasing you to swim to her. She is only a face on a phone screen, wallpaper doll moving hands and eyes from lord knows where. She is nearer to the eye, farthest from sight. But choicelessly you video conference with her. You can't kiss her masked  face. She would remind you of your birthday promises which you have not fulfilled. All your promise of filling her blank years and ushering in her blissful midcentury starlit canopy over her thinning hair will strike you hollow. She would smile without lipstick and ask: Where is your celebration, the candles and the roses all the way from here to eternity?...

 You will turn morose and watching her radiant eyes speak with a hesitant voice: This New Normal will change in a few months my Love. Next year I'll compensate with redoubled vigour.