Day Zero

It had been a long day. The morning started with cleaning the utensils, as the maid was on uninformed leave. It becomes even more painful to clean utensils that have remained partially soiled overnight. Nevertheless, there wasn't an option. I realised how decking the utensils after washing them is indeed an art; it should fit in the designated space, be placed such that the water dries out and additionally one needs to ensure that all the others don't tumble when one is pulled out.

This was day zero of self isolation. COVID-19, after its severe outbreak in China, Europe and the US, had found its way to India. While the officials were gearing up to contain the spread, it was becoming difficult amid festivities and large gatherings that the country is famous for. The government of Karnataka finally put a much needed break on the state's social life by shutting down all places of mass gatherings including movie theatres, pubs, schools, colleges, etc. In Bangalore, the IT hub of the country, all firms were advised to allow their employees to work from home for a week or two. Fortunately, I am employed by one such company who took this seriously.

Staying away from home during a partial lockdown is difficult. For someone like me who has barely cooked anything more than tea and maggi, this was a test. Ordering food from outside wasn't safe either. Travelling home by the next economically feasible flight was an option to ponder. Amidst the panic, I booked my ticket. Later that day, while talking to a couple of friends and cousins, the risks of travelling home struck me hard; given that airports witness huge crowd everyday, they are a hotspot for the virus to spread. Travelling and risking mine and more importantly my family's health was definitely not something I could chose. I cancelled my travel plans.

In wake of the virus scare, major airlines had announced complicated cancellation rules and none of their systems were updated with the same. I called the Air Asia support and it took me 45 minutes to reach them. After little discussion, the customer support person, who was probably a lot tired after working day and night during the crisis, told me that she wouldn't be able to do much as the ticket was booked by a third party tool. I called up HDFC Smartbuy support, the platform that I had used to book the ticket. It took me another 40 minutes to reach them. This lady, a lot more energetic, notified me that they had no idea about the airline's new cancellation policies as they were not updated with the same. All she could do was cancel the ticket as per the usual norms. Task one, accomplished.

Next, I had to ensure I had supplies for the next week. While people were crazily hoarding groceries and sanitisers, I didn't feel like being one of them. Both of my flatmates were not here and I only needed enough for myself. I ensured I picked only what I would be able to consume in a week and not a piece more. Big Basket, my usual supplier of grocery and household items, who usually deliver the order on the same day or at max the next day, was showing that the next available delivery slot was three days later. I reduced the items, placed the order, picked my bag, went to the nearby store and fetched whatever I needed for the next three days.

That day, I boiled potatoes for the first time in my (almost) 26 years of existence. I mashed them up, cut onions into small chunks and mixed them both along with some spices. I used the mix as a sandwich filler and it turned out pretty well. While I could take the credit for executing the steps almost accurately, credit goes to my mom, staying some 3000 kms away, for patiently explaining me how to crack the code of cooking. As a safety measure, I ensured that my cook and maid, who come once a day, have their hands washed both before and after they work at my apartment; if I don't want them to bring the infection to my apartment, I wouldn't want them to carry it from here as well (in case I have it here).

Times like these make you realise the privileges that few of us have; of being able to work from home, of being able to plan home visits during emergencies, of receiving our paycheques irrespective of the economic slowdown, of being able to have weeks of supplies at home. Times like these make you ponder the value of community; how at one point one has to stop being selfish; for you could hoard all of the hand sanitisers, but you would want your neighbour to be infection free as well. While I hope and pray that this disaster is averted in its current form rather than it aggravating any further, I hope the lessons that we learn remain with us forever and that we, the privileged community, start being more grateful for all the good things that life has offered us and pass on some of it to the lesser privileged ones.