Friday, June 5, 2020

From a distance, I pray...

A friend’s note made me wonder about this:

How close have you come to the coronavirus?

Couple of days back, there was news about a criminal in remand custody testing positive for covid-19. The policemen who came near him had to go into quarantine, people who had come near those policemen were also put in quarantine and that includes a National Best Actor award recipient.

The main problem with this criminal was that he was not really forthcoming about his contacts. One, because he is a criminal and he is a honourable man and not a snitch on his associates. Two, because he was drunk and couldn’t remember. Three, because his mental state was not exactly right. It seems he even tried to put his house or his wife and kid on fire. Oh, you know, just the usual neighbourhood chap.

Anyway, I have been checking the list of containment zones and I was quite surprised to find my mother’s village in that list. Chest filled with pride and all that. 

Since you know me, you wouldn’t be too surprised to hear that my roots are in villages which no one has heard of. When the (shuttle) train stops at my paternal village, passengers usually wonder, “Are there people living here?” It even has a spooky name which seems to confirm such doubts. As for my maternal village, trains don’t stop there, not even buses if they had a choice. Once in a while, people hear of it when there’s a mass murder or two. Oh, you urban lot should get to know the real country.

Back to my tale. I called one of my maternal uncles. And I found that my village got into the containment zone list because of that same criminal.

It seems that criminal, in drunken stupor or not, had visited the house right opposite to my uncle’s house, that is, what used to be our hereditary family house or whatever if we were the type to go gaga and call a house that. 

The criminal turns out to be the brother of my uncle’s neighbour.

“Did you meet him?” I asked my uncle, excited, hopeful.

“Of course not,” my uncle retorted, “but, we are still in lockdown because of him.”

“Tchah...” I said. My uncle disconnected the call.

Other than that criminal, the closest I got to the virus is a lawyer in my ghetto in the city who had jumped quarantine and crawled all around. Friendly neighbours immediately notified the police and got the man of the law incarcerated at home. But, I think the lawyer must have visited my barber by then. There’s nothing else to do in my part of town.

And, I have to postpone a haircut for another month or two. The last time I had hair this long, I had black hair and all my teeth, it was sometime way back in the last century.

Please do share how close you have got to that wee bugger, the virus, I mean. Let it be a safe distance, I pray.


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