Into the second phase of nationwide lockdown, Ruchira recalls the hardships that we have been facing in these difficult times. An exclusive for Different Truths.

Everything has gone horribly wrong. It has surpassed the worst nightmare that I’ve ever had  in the entire span  of my   five decades plus existence. And it was clamped on us without adequate notice. It the great Indian Lockdown, now in its second phase, which I am talking about. I shall never forget that Tuesday evening, in late spring, when the news of the clampdown was nnounced.

…the aam aadmi’s  daily life came to a screeching halt. The daily newspapers disappeared from our lives. The supplies of two basic essential commodities were hardhit. On a personal note, brown/ wheat/aata bread, which has been my staple all along – owing to health  reasons – were nowhere to be found.

By the following morning, the aam aadmi’s  daily life came to a screeching halt. The daily newspapers disappeared from our lives. The supplies of two basic essential commodities were hardhit. On a personal note, brown/ wheat/aata bread, which has been my staple all along – owing to health  reasons – were nowhere to be found. I’m beginning to forget what they tasted like. As the drama unfolded further with each passing day, supplies of groceries and household consumables began  to dwindle; chips and major brands of namkeen were out of stock. So were the ready-to-drink powder beverages, which people prefer to quench their thirst with. And summer is  already  upon us.

Since then, the price of  lentils and legumes  are sky rocketing. Simply because  supplies from godowns and warehouses fail to reach  the retail shops  and  nondescript neigbourhood outlets in due time.

We were repeatedly reassured that vegetables and greens would be available aplenty just as in the pre–lockdown days. Sadly the ground reality was, and is, different. The variety of stuff available is limited. And on top of it, the vendors charge as per their fancy.

We were repeatedly reassured that vegetables and greens would be available aplenty just as in the pre-lockdown days. Sadly the ground reality was, and is, different. The variety of stuff available is limited. And on top of it, the vendors charge as per their fancy. Fish, flesh and fowl are available in wholesale markets . The local residents can afford to buy and include them in their daily diet. But what  of people like my family (and many others, I am sure), who happen to reside far away from such  areas?  For them, planning each family meal becomes painful and tortuous, given the limited resources.

By  sheer coincidence, my  part time maid, who  was  down with typhoid  during the first  fortnight of March conveniently disappeared soon after the  announcement. However, three days into April, she boldly marched in to claim her pound of flesh — the entire month’s wages.  I was left with no option but to pay up. She stomped off victoriously. Over the past three weeks, my spouse and I have been slogging hard: taking turns at sweeping our home followed by bouts of pochcha (mopping). This despite the fact that we have certain health issues namely arthritis slip disc et al.  After each meal,  I religiously undertake dishwashing, cleaning the cook top, tidying the kitchen, rounding off with scrubbing the kitchen floor. By midnight, I get dog tired and consequently sleep like a log till next morning.

It is as clear as daylight, the pandemic in tandem with the lockdown is playing havoc with the mental health of millions. Every day, tales of domestic violence and skirmishes go public. The partner, who is by and large calm and level headed, now flies off the handle at the smallest pretext.

It is as clear as daylight, the pandemic in tandem with the lockdown is playing havoc with the mental health of millions. Every day, tales of domestic violence and skirmishes go public. The partner, who is by and large calm and level headed, now flies off the handle at the smallest pretext. My daughter misses her clinical duties. All day long she is either be fast asleep or glued to her  mobile phone watching films, videos and music. Rest of the time, she complains of depression.

For us, this year’s Bengali New Year in mid April was the worst one as far we can remember. Sluggish flow of cash, paucity of food stuff, Janta curfew and lockdown took the wind out of our sails, literally.

Meanwhile, the steady inflow of news of Corona related misery and deaths are enough to push you into a yawning abyss of fear and gloom.

The entire humankind is plunged into sorrow, left to bemoan their fate. The best one can do is to make a piteous appeal to the  Almighty

When will this sorrowful existence come to an end? The entire humankind is plunged into sorrow, left to bemoan their fate. The best one can do is to make a piteous appeal to the  Almighty, “Lord have mercy on us.”  The cry of Londoners, during the Great plague of London  (1665 -1666).

Though, as of now, there is no light at the end of the tunnel, yet, hoping against hope, I would like to echo Nichiren Daishonin’s (a Japanese Buddhist saint) immortal words, “Winter always turns to spring.”

Photos from the Internet