I Have Never Been So Unsure of Everything At Once

Will the prime minister call off the lockdown or will it go on for several months?

Out of everything this pandemic has offered, there is one thing that I find myself failing to deal with – the alarming presence of uncertainty. I have never been so unsure of everything at once. The inability to decide whether I am feeling too much or just numb, if I am too scared of death or too restless to live a normal life again – this erratic behaviour of life has become another obstacle to overcome these days.

Every morning around 6, I sit morosely contemplating life exactly how I was doing the previous morning, telling myself how all my days are exactly the same as if the only thing changing is the date on my phone screen. I finish a film by 8 am, make a cup of coffee and sit in the balcony, and this has been my routine for the past twenty-three days now (since the lockdown).

Despite the exact same routine for almost a month now, I find myself caught up in contradictory thoughts through the day. I ask myself, what if I get infected with the virus and it is the last time I am able to help my mother with the dishes and cleaning. The most heartbreaking ‘what if’ among the countless ‘what ifs’ I battle with is, asking myself “what if the elders in my family get infected and their weak immune systems fails to defeat the virus.” This for me is the peak point of the day where I realise – despite all days feeling the same as other days – life yet doesn’t let humans predict it.

The uncertainty even in the times where we are locked in our houses, knowing the only places we’ll visit in the day will be the kitchen or the bedroom, we are still unaware what life has to offer, will it be a leap in the number of positive cases or will the news read “vaccination for the coronavirus is ready”, will the prime minister call off the lockdown or will it go on for several months, will the news bulletin read “2,000 new deaths due to the coronavirus” or will there be “no new deaths”.


Also read: How Lockdown Helped Me Confront Suppressed Emotions


Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined being petrified of a tickle in my throat or a petty sneeze. Daily body temperature checks have become a ritual. While watching a movie or a TV show during the lockdown, I often find myself distracted from the plot and reminiscing about busy roads and packed restaurants in the background, people hugging each other and travelling in a metro without gloves and sanitisers. And that’s when I confront my desires – all I want is to roam about my city without having to use any safety gear and meet people, hug them and tell them that the world is nothing without them.

And in these absolutely stressful times, I often think to myself what Ed Helms’ character Andrew Bernard from The Office says, “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them,” so that I would have driven my car a little more, stayed with my friends for a little longer, asked the pani puri wala: “Bhaiya, ek plate aur (one more please)”, would’ve ditched sleeping for the early morning class, never would have cancelled that trip to the mountains, would’ve attended more weddings.

And last but not the least, I wish I could turn back time to the good old days and make myself understand how fortunate I am and to not forget to cherish every single moment.

Verda Subzwari is a journalism student at AJK Mass Communication and Research Center, Jamia Millia Islamia.

Featured image credit: Verda Subzwari

The New Normal: ‘Each Day of this Lockdown, I Choose Myself’

‘The New Normal’ each week hopes to bring you the raw voices of people from across India as they live through these unparalleled times.

Another day, another week, but who really understands time anymore? The number of cases are steadily rising, but so is the frustration and anxiety from being locked up at home for such an extended time – even if it’s for our own good.

But we’ve got to sit tight – many of us even after the national lockdown comes to an end and when certain pockets and locations see a relaxation of the rules. After all, the end of the lockdown will hardly mean the threat of coronavirus has been put to bed once and for all.

As we continue to trudge on, and keep our social distancing vows, our ‘new normal’ continues to warp and morph and change to the demands of an ever changing uncertain world.

So write in to us at livewire@cms.thewire.in with your experiences – in no more than 200 words. Mark the subject matter as ‘The New Normal’ and include your age and where you’re from in the email.

Here are some of the accounts that were emailed to LiveWire this past week.

Sanjana Chawla, 20, New Delhi

I belong to a ‘hardcore’ Hindu-Punjabi family and my parents are too blinded by political leaders that they believe in every WhatsApp forward or video about Muslims.

Despite being a student of journalism, I’ve failed to present and explain the reality to them in an effort to erase the hatred they’ve grown up with. Arguments and fights over their “Muslims did this, they did that” and my “can you stop making everything about religion” aren’t new to my household, but their “inki wajah se coronavirus spread ho raha hai” is a new addition.

No amount of facts or statistics seem to be of any use or help because their hatred runs deeper than the truth. I hope things change and they understand the actual reality some day – and not just what political parties sold and biased media feed them.

Siya Mulge, 18, Solapur

As a student preparing for the engineering entrance examinations, there are many questions in this uncertain time – the dates keep getting shifted and so does our consternation.

After sitting at a study table for over two years to prepare for that one big day, hoping somewhere that it would be postponed for eternity but also desiring to get it done with all at the same time isn’t a feeling anyone wants to experience.

As much as I like the idea of the exams being pushed back, I hate myself for being indolent too. Quarantine isn’t exactly a walk in the park for students like me.

Afifa Khan, 23, Sahawar (Uttar Pradesh)

With the onset of COVID-19, those working in MNCs and big corporate houses got the ease of work from home amid the lockdown. On the other hand, the heroes of our time – health workers, the police and other administrative staff and workers – are working tirelessly, risking their lives to keep people safe and provide them with essentials. For their work, they have been getting much warranted appreciation from governments around the world and the public.

Amidst this chaos, we must also acknowledge the work of housewives, for whom the workload has increased many times over. Many among those living away from home have returned, children are not going to school, office goers are at homes and domestic workers are not coming in. Some families have people who work in alternate shifts – one during the day and the other at night.

But the mighty house women of the world have to work both shifts.

We work all seven days of the week, day shifts and night shifts – for almost 16 hours a day. Our role has also been absolutely pivotal in making huge contributions in keeping the country running as unpaid workers. We housewives also deserve at least a little applause and appreciation for what we do.

Gaurvi Narang, 19, Ahmedabad 

Waking up every day to my father conducting conference calls as he stares into his computer screen wearing a freshly ironed white shirt and casual blue shorts – an outfit there is much disagreement over – I see persistence and a will to thrive.

Ma endlessly scrolls through the BigBasket app so she can avail that one slot she has been waiting for to open all week. She knows better than to expect her choice of milk, dahi, bread and biscuits to all be available so she settles for all the wrong brands without a grumble. The least she can do at a time like this is not complain.

I’ve been asked to do the dusting and occasionally sweep the floor. I have started believing that my house is bigger than I thought it was. And as I’m washing my plates after having eaten, I realise how my “single-princess-child” upbringing is being reversed dramatically. It reminds me of my privilege.

I’m beyond grateful, if these are our struggles. My heart goes out to everyone who is unable to say the same.

Nuveira Hasan, Dubai

Technology and gadgets have become an extension of our being. However, despite being armed with the latest technology, we humans are nothing but fragile beings against this malevolent force of nature as it locks us in our houses.

Each one of us is trying to adjust to the ‘new normal’ – online classes, remote offices, masks, gloves, sanitisers – while we attempt to make sense of the march of the contagion. It almost seems like we have stepped into a Robin Cook medical thriller. With each page that we turn, we hope that a real-life Jack Stapleton and Laurie Montgomery will find a solution.

The virus has rushed across closed borders, passengers stuck in transit, students desperate to get home, children worried about their aged parents living alone. For many, the consequences are infinitely more tragic. Each death represents someone’s father, mother, brother, sister, spouse, son or daughter.

While I, like millions across the globe, wait, hoping and praying that the virus’s march will be arrested soon, the realisation dawns on me that superheroes do not always wear capes – they sometime don white coats.

Furqaan Jafri, 20, Ahmedabad

As part of the graduating batch of Ahmedabad University’s BBA programme, this is officially my last week as a third-year student. We shifted to the online mode of learning two weeks before the first lockdown was announced. Things have been virtual ever since.

This has been frustrating for me and a lot of my peers simply because it feels like the last few days of our college life have been snatched away. It feels like a beautiful piece of art being created on canvas for the past three years will now remain incomplete for eternity – we will never know how it was going to look upon completion. A lot of things remain unsaid – pranks undone, plans unfulfilled and memories uncreated.

The only sense of positivity is that all of us are in this together. Though not in person, we are all keeping in touch, we’re all trying to make the most of whatever time we have – from wherever we are. But all of us still wish we could have had that last batch photo, had a proper farewell and been able to say our final goodbyes – the way we longed for them to be.

Sampada, 29, Kolhapur City

It was decided that after the last day in office on March 11, I would go and meet all my relatives (the ones who matter to me) – my kind of solo travel. Then the plan was to stay with my husband – we are in a long-distance marriage– for a few days and return.

But the situation continued to become more and more grim as the number of COVID-19 cases kept rising. I had to rush back to my hometown in a jiffy as news of a possible curfew spread like wildfire from March 17 onwards. Things turned topsy-turvy with the Janata curfew, and after the announcement of the 21-day national lockdown.

The current routine has become a ‘new normal’. Three meals in the comfort of my house, loving in-laws by my side, the start of my dream project (blogging), and an internet connection that allows me to stay connected with my parents, siblings, and friends are some of the positive aspects I am holding on to in this uncertain time. The best thing is that I get to spend time with my husband after almost two years.

Karan Malik, 33, Sydney

Do I feel anxious, skeptical or paranoid? Yes. This is the current normal for many across the world.

Australia adapted early to COVID-19. Self-isolation and work from home was encouraged all through February. As shockwaves propagated across Europe, stricter restrictions were applied and the unease became permanent.

Having lived across multiple countries, I am lucky to not be in the US, a country failing its citizens, or in Singapore, who has been overly cautious. Australia has proven to be somewhat in between the two extremes. In India, where I still have family, the infected count is surging, but there still needs to be more testing for a true image to emerge. The Indian state, in my opinion, is more invested in image management than crisis management. I hope that changes rather soon.

I work in the airline sector, which has been thoroughly impacted, yet I consider closing borders and commercial airspace as paramount in managing the spread of the virus. My only hope, while I sit in the comfort of my home with an ample supply of necessities, is that global cooperation and a belief in science is only strengthened when normalcy returns.

Nivedita, 32, Mumbai

The days go by slowly like a dream of lost memories.
The smell of freshly-brewed coffee longs to dance to the tune of office chatter.
Walk by familiar roads seems to be a probable eulogy.
Video calls unknowingly elucidate more distance and don’t reek of proximity.
Self-awareness often gets mistaken for self-obsession.

Amidst the chaos, a magical cocoon exists for those who wish to be engulfed in it.
Whether it is reading that book that lay unattended;
Whether it is the long overdue call with a friend;
Whether it is the charm of looking at your earring collection (each of which has a story to relate);
Whether it is the pictures on your phone gallery that resonate freedom;
It all trickles down to you.

For most of us, we do not make ourselves our priority.
The lockdown has been a welcome bridge to address this gap.
Each day of this lockdown, I choose myself.

The question is: Do you?

Anshu Banga, 18, Alwar

To those who are reading this – are you eating three fixed meals? Working or studying from home? Have enough stock of essentials at home? Binge watching shows online?

Well, everything is alright then.

While people are busy abusing migrant workers for gathering at Bandra or in Surat, imagine how many of them would actually know in detail about the novel coronavirus? For them, it’s a new disease which has put their incomes on a hold for an indefinite period.

Now, pause for a second. These people are fruit and vegetable vendors, plumbers, masons, construction workers – many of whom have offered their services to us sooner or later. You’ve probably, at one time or the other, had conversations with your maid, your dhobi, your security guard etc and spoken about how hard life is?

Well, ask them again now. How are they getting food and other essentials?

We are privileged. Let’s not forget that. The ‘new normal’ has made me realise that getting proper food, education at home or working from home are all luxuries. It has made me realise that your freedom of speech can be snatched away from you if you are not fortunate enough.

Aishwarya Rohatgi , 25 , Patna, Bihar

To be honest, I am not jostled by this ‘new normal’, I wished for this for a long, long time because I wanted the world to stop, to pause and reflect for a moment. I just didn’t know this wish of mine would be fulfilled by a pandemic of this magnitude.

But this slowdown of sorts has made me realise that doctors, support staff, sanitation workers, vendors, the police and so many other professions are indispensable to our society. And that health is indeed wealth.

As a public health student, I have never felt more proud of all the scientists, researchers, epidemiologists and frontline health workers who have been giving their heart and soul to fight the virus. The story of the two women doctors who had stones pelted at them rejoining duty the very next day makes me believe that health as a profession needs to be revered more. Those two doctors are my heroes – along with everyone who is battling this crisis.

I can affirmatively say that you, me and all of us are handling this situation to the best of our capacities as long as we are choosing be more sensitive and generous in our words and actions towards ourselves, our family, stray animals and anyone that we can help. Let us usher in collective accountability and empathy in our perspectives towards one and all this lockdown season. And may the fourth be with you!

Featured image credit: Kathlene Macgregor/Unsplash

How COVID-19 is Hurting the Aspirations of Young, Broke and Skilled Indians

With laying offs, pay cuts and leaves without pay, and not enough cash-flow in the economy, a lot of young people find themselves facing a future riddled with uncertainty and insecurity.

The novel coronavirus has stopped the world in its tracks. While our doctors and medical staff battle the virus – often without access to adequate measures to protect themselves – another aggressive battle rages on in quiet corners of cramped apartments and under rented roofs.

With companies laying off employees, employment offers being revoked, pay cuts and leaves without pay, a dearth of investment and not enough cash-flow in the economy, a lot of young people find themselves facing a future riddled with uncertainty and insecurity.

“Most of us hail from the middle class. Hunger is not a concern for us, capital is,” a 27-year-old independent filmmaker told me over a phone call, soon after Prime Minister Narendra Modi announced the lockdown extension.

Towering uncertainty

In a different phone call, a 30-year-old PhD student, who also is a Latin dancer, shared concerns about more than mere capital. She told me about a hip hop dancer who had migrated from Kolkata to Delhi years ago. He had mostly trained himself in the dance-form and worked three jobs to get by. Since the lockdown, he hasn’t been able to work even one of them.

“Full time dancers have it hard as well,” she said. She stressed on the fact that dance is the singular source of income for many people. “They have families to support.”

While some have transitioned to teaching the art-form online, others do not have that option, she said. This is because either the dance-form they practice requires a partner, or they cannot afford the amenities – laptop, speakers, enough space – required to hold an online dance class.

I asked her how she was doing and she said, “It isn’t so bad for me. My scholarship has me covered for this month. I am not sure what will I do in the next.”

About her PhD, she said that all field research has naturally been put on hold and that “from what we know, the UGC is refusing to extend the deadlines”. Another problem, she pointed out, is that there is not enough clarity in the instructions that percolate down to the PhD scholars. This has lead to confusion and uncertainty.

Arbab, a 24-year-old film and communication student at the National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad, also finds himself grappling with similar concerns.


Also read: Coronavirus: Why Sisyphus Comes to Mind As I Struggle Everyday


“My course has been halted and neither the faculty nor the students know what will happen next,” he texted me on WhatsApp. “We have been asked to send some documents to finish the course and be evaluated. But (owing to the lockdown) a lot of us can’t go out to shoot, and therefore, can’t finish the work. No one knows what the timeline is, and how will we be evaluated this semester.”

Arbab was working on a documentary on the ghettoisation of Muslims in Ahmedabad and the rising fervour of protests in the city.

“It was personally something that I wanted to bring forward, being a Muslim and a progressive citizen of this country. Not only have the protests been quenched, but the locations I visited (Bapunagar and Gomtipur) have come into question following the Jamaat incident. It is extremely saddening to see the communalisation of even a pandemic. I’ve lost the hope of finishing the documentary, even though I want to get a certain truth out which has been grossly misrepresented,” he said.

Speaking about what’s to come, Arbab said that they usually seek sponsorship for their graduation projects, “but that seems to have gone out of the window now.” A lot of the students had taken loans which need to be paid, and therefore, are in desperate need of employment post graduation. They’re clueless now, Arbab told me, about who would hire them.

“I personally have no contingency. I only know how to make films and if I’m not able to get a job, I’m essentially doomed,” he said.

An industry caught in a hurricane

Abhay Punjabi, 27, a filmmaker and the co-founder of Ambidextr Studios, feels that this situation is definitely affecting all freelancers and daily wagers on film sets. But he is hopeful that things will turn around.

“Work will flow, online video content will be in greater demand,” he said.

But at the moment, the online media industry is seemingly not immune to the wreckage either. On April 13, digital news-media organisation The Quint sent around 45 employees on Leave Without Pay (LWP), although some of them were called back later. A pall of gloom and fear of what the future may hold has settled, even among those who were not sent on LWP.

“For now it’s not me, but how do I know what will happen next week? It’s not like we saw this coming,” a retained employee of The Quint told me in a text.

The Quint, in an email to the employees being sent on LWP – that has since gone viral on the internet – had said that the unprecedented “double whammy” of a massive health crisis and “the scale of shutdown and lockdown” putting them “in the eye of an economic storm” caused them to take the emergency action. They maintained that such measures were reserved only for ‘rarest of rare’ situations.


Also read: ‘Shit is Gettin’ Real’: COVID-19 Pandemic Reveals Cracks in Celebrity Capitalism


Another retained employee told me that he wished “they had just cut salaries of every employee, even those earning less than 50,000, and retained those they couldn’t afford to pay.”

The Quint, in an email, had informed staffers that the salaries of those earning less than Rs 50,000 would not be impacted in any way.

The Quint, however, is not the only new-media organisation that has had to bear the brunt of this “economic storm”. In what The News Minute described as a “bloodbath” in the Indian media industry, the entire Sunday Magazine team of The Times of India was sacked, while News Nation laid off all 15 members of their English digital team without notice, and Indian Express and Business Standard informed their employees of salary cuts.

A recently sacked employee of TOI’s Life reportedly told Newslaundry, that the exact words of his editor were: “That’s it, game over.”

“We were told that the production of one-pager Life will now be done by Delhi Times and so they don’t need so many people. The HR head will be calling tomorrow and giving us an official notice period of a month,” the former employee said.

What about press freedom?

Loss of employment is a scary prospect for young journalists. But for some, that concern is also coupled with the fear of losing the freedom to tell stories with honesty and independence.

Asmita Nandy, a 25-year-old journalist, talked about how this pandemic could impact the freedom to be critical of the government.

“I fear the situation is so bad that even liberal organisations might have to soon fall in line in order to stay afloat,” she told me.

The independence of the Indian media in our country has already been under the scanner, Asmita said. “With this economic crisis, we’ll have to ensure we are not regularly hounded by court cases or defamation suits for criticising the ruling party, and that’s what scares me the most.”

The pandemic, laced with nationalist furore, can intensify the threat of censorship. The inability to deal with numerous court cases, while coping with the health and economic crisis, can further paralyse press freedom.

What entrepreneurs need

Akshat Singhal, 28, the founder of Legistify.com – a tech enabled legal-concierge platform, told me on the phone, that he feels responsible for his employees’ well-being, and that he’s stressed about the economic dent of the lockdowns and the recession on his company.

“How do I deal with this situation morally and ethically, and also how do I do things for the organisation to survive?” he asked.

He told me that they have no option right now but to cut costs. He also believes that the economy will bounce back eventually. But a more robust, technology friendly global work mechanism is required at the moment, he said.

The toll on the human resource executives, across all companies, is not easy either. An HR executive at a large e-commerce platform told me, on the condition of anonymity, that their company has roughly laid off 200 employees.

“As HR, it weighs heavily on the conscience when you have to call employees to let them know that they cannot continue working in the organisation,” she said.

Twenty-nine year old Vidyarthi Baddireddy, the CEO of Reculta, suggests that start-ups need more help from the government.

“In some of the other countries, you have access to collateral free loans for MSMEs,” he says. “Here, there’s no information about them at all. The extension of the lockdown will make things worse for us, as more projects have been killed, and there has been a cut down on marketing budgets.”

He also believes that opportunities for fresh graduates this year seem pale. “Things have gone completely haywire this time. Many offers, even those of internships, have been revoked,” he said.

Where are the jobs?

Juhi Nishad, a design student of NIFT Mumbai, originally slated to graduate this May, is naturally unsure about what the near future holds.

“The company that I interned with for my graduation project made a pre-placement offer,” she told me. “But given the current situation and the economic crisis, I cannot say anything for sure. It is anyway not easy to get a job in the design industry. I know people who graduated in 2019 and are still looking for work.”

Juhi’s concerns are amplified by the fact that, at this point, she doesn’t even know when will she graduate.


Also read: How Lockdown Helped Me Confront Suppressed Emotions


Shubham Mandhyan is a 26-year-old fashion photographer who has worked with a number of Bollywood A-listers and fashion-models. In my original conversation with him, he told me how living in Bombay is even harder during this period, but he is grateful for the financial security his job as an in-house photographer for a brand brings.

Just a few hours later, he texted me to say that soon after speaking with me, he had received a call from his office telling him that they have discontinued his services and that they wouldn’t be giving him his salary “this month onwards”.

Meanwhile, a marketing communications manager at a 5-star hotel lamented the pitfall of the hospitality sector, and how the hotels have been instructed by their global teams to discontinue their ties with social media and PR agencies. “Can you imagine how many youngsters will be sacked?” she asked me.

Scrounging for silver linings

“There will be better days,” the 27-year-old independent filmmaker told me on the phone, while we discussed a dwindling availability of jobs in the Indian film industry. “Sure, there will be some residual trauma, even after we have a coronavirus vaccine. People will still try and avoid public gatherings, and not watch movies in multiplexes. They will prefer isolated watching of series and films on their laptops and phones. This, however, can work as a catalyst in the shift from expensive and big productions for cinema halls to independent, and more content driven projects for small screens.”

If this does happen, indeed, the Indian entertainment industry is also likely to become more inclusive, more attainable and more intimate. These alone are the kind of silver linings many amongst us are holding onto for dear life.

Helplessness often goes ignored, amid all the clanging of utensils and lighting of candles. However, at least in some places, it is easy for a willing eye to spot financial strain and the helplessness that it brings. You can spot it smattered all over the ghastly facades of development; hungry, on the roads during lockdowns; under the glare of traffic lights on hectic Mondays; on the glossy print of your newspapers; in the after-thought of your leaders.

But helplessness, hidden, scared, often embarrassed, can also be found in the crevices of busy, bustling metropolitan lives. It’s important to prevent more people from slipping into those crevices.

Mekhala Saran is a freelance journalist, poet and a law student. Tweet to her @mekhala_saran.

Featured image credit: Timon Studdler/Unsplash