My neighbours have been a friendly lot since I left them with no choice. It was quite a nightmare sort of experience to not see faces living next door. Summoning up my courage after praying that nobody sneezes into my face I open my door to see all the other doors locked. An hour or so beside my window helped me see a few smiling faces and scared eyes.
Post Janata curfew the clappings began and for a few moment neighbours around seemed to forget the reason behind the exercise and hence they laughed aloud, giggled and waved. We can’t grow out of clapping and whistling, can we? Fortunately, the only idea my parents managed to transfer to my head with ease was “Love thy neighbour”. Whatever they said they couldn’t get into me the “As thyself” part. Children learn better by seeing, don’t they! This simple yet powerful lesson I learnt by observing them and their parents. Be it Christmas or New Year or Easter or birthdays, the first and best homemade delicacies were distributed to neighbours. Delivering them to neighbours, answering all their questions and making sure to bring back our tiffin boxes was a not-so-easy job, entrusted with me. No wonder I’ve a soft corner for food delivery boys in spite of their involuntary two-wheeler acrobatics on road. So, this habit of happy giving led to very happy receiving too.
Once the pandemic set in, news and fear of the same began making its rounds and panic buying came to light. That was when I decided to make calls, forward messages on the looming crisis to almost everyone in my contact list, explain what I read and understood and stock up on everything needed for another one month. Every time I stepped out I made sure my immediate neighbours knew of where I was heading and to buy what. Just in case to find out if I can be of some help to them. This didn’t seem unusual to anybody since I’ve been the next-door solution to many on all four seasons. In due course of time going and returning from short shopping trips seemed like an ordeal. Yet, I never grew tired. If you are beginning to wish that I was your neighbour, kindly put it to rest. First time in my lifetime a reverse brainstorming changed my perspective towards helping neighbours. All of a sudden my propensity to help doubled and tripled not out of love or selfishness but because of the thought, “What if they knock my door for necessity goods and medicines?” Things came to the extent of many not answering my knocks or calls, much to my relief. Thanks to all kinds of lessons on social distancing. Noise and sounds of neighbourhoods died down. Not even yells of parents who parent the most unruly kid. Even the sound of a neighbour’s mixer engaged my thoughts. A lockdown was the least-anticipated of all the measures by all even though majority was staying put.
Before anything could be implemented by anybody, we decided to flee to Madurai. Having grown up with 5 siblings, my husband would suffer anything but not an incapacity to meet at least one of them once a week. WhatsApp and social media can’t fool him. He vouches for real time bonding, just like me. Fled to Madurai with every perishable, edible stuff we had. Since we were the last to join the already quarantined family members, we had to put up with the not-so-funny comments from my youngest brother-in-law for ignoring their invites and warnings much earlier. An isolated house away from the city is definitely a safer place compared to life in a condominium. More than a week has passed but we still have to put up with his priggish smile followed by “Finally you are safe”. Most happy and excited is the lady of the house, my sister-in-law who had prudently equipped her kitchen in time, around January in addition to stockpiling stuff that’s needed to sustain 6 families for 3 months. Only if PMs and leaders were this prudent, countries will grow to new heights. With a grandmother to mollycoddle grandchildren, I doubt my role as a perfect parent many times a day. In her own mannerisms my mother-in-law conveys that the ‘in-law’ part just means I’m legally her’s.
From my Hidey-hole, the only window to the outside world being social media, I read and re-read news, check their authenticity, discuss with whoever was willing, call my friends to check on them, their whereabouts and whenever I find them receptive I tell them how the government is playing the religious card even during a turmoil as this. On social media I find myself as vociferous as anybody else. Many a time, the urge to run out along the roads with arms to protect the voiceless and food packets to feed those on an unending exodus seem to overwhelm me. In vain, I sulk.
No humans I spot in my vicinity for all seem well with all. Locked up in homes with enough food and comforts, only blaring news channels break the sounds of animals and birds. Over the days, I realize loving a neighbour of the same socioeconomic status is much more easier than loving the needy, insecure and desperate. It takes more than will power and money to reach out to people different from us and less fortunate than us. Social service during normal times with funds from everywhere is lauded and promoted for more inflow of funds. But during threatening times as these self-denying service of welfare workers and selfless humans go unnoticed just the way I know it or it should be.
“When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: that thine alms may be in secret…”
People out on roads, in want of food and water, to serve, to be served are looked upon as the most irresponsible lot given the situation of the world today. And the most unruly and violent few assume they are supposed to save the world from ending. Still, many in their small and big capacities find ways and means to lend a hand. It is extremely agonizing to watch what people go through during these trying times and many echo similar thoughts. During difficult times, even the most empathetic give up and blame themselves or circumstances thereby serving to fuel their own frustration which in no way would benefit anybody. Since distancing is the need of the we become rigid and a bit lifeless too. In despair, I take a look at how honest the government services are and how relevant are they to what people want and need. In these days of more work, fear and fewer resources, I find that pressing issues and traumas of the poor trigger heroes, only real-life heroes. I’m not one I admit. My excuses of various shapes and kinds don’t comfort my conscience. Yet, I stay put and safe. Sincere attempts to empathize with one and all will make things worse is the government’s stance. But we know “Empathy is the most radical of human emotions.” Meanwhile, at the minimum, off-field burden sharing of those geared up to serve come what may should be considered our privilege. Rightly emphasized Suresh Menon, a Dragonfly symbolizes change.
I cannot but hope that this piece might serve to cheer up families that have come to stay together, support an already prevailing atmosphere of support and compassion somewhere and motivate another one to go one step ahead from loving a neighbour towards responding to the world outside the comfort zone. I too shall read this because I as yet ain’t wholesome being.
How I wish I’m ‘The Morph’!
Let our light shine, not torches
Elsa Lycias Joel can be reached at elsalyciasjoel@gmail.com
