May 24, 2020

Peculiar events in a lockdown

Allow me to list here a few of the more peculiar events of the last several days. I mean, there have been many, and don’t get the idea that these are the most peculiar. I picked them out at random.

* A woman is desperate to get to her home in a distant corner of India. She has her father with her. She chooses her only option: to cycle home. 1200 km, with him riding pillion. You don’t need me to tell you that this is just one more wrenching story from this migrant tragedy that we have blundered into. You’ve seen and read about many many others like this pair.

But what happens with this one? A cycling federation announces that they will call her in for trials, once this lockdown lifts. Ivanka Trump (!) praises her “beautiful” love for her father and the federation’s announcement. Voila: one strand in this blanket of migrant misery has been successfully painted as a heartwarming story of guts and glory that — believe! Just do it! — may even bring India Olympic glory one day!

* PM Modi flew to West Bengal to get a first-hand look at the devastation caused by cyclone Amphan, a great natural disaster. As he should, of course.

PM Modi has also been flying all over the country to get a first-hand look at the devastation caused by the lockdown — the streams of desperate migrants on foot and in concrete mixers and being hosed down with bleach and more, of course — a great manmade disaster. As he should, of course.

But wait. Oops. My mistake. Only one of those flights actually happened.

* PM Modi flew to West Bengal to get a first-hand look at the devastation caused by cyclone Amphan, a great natural disaster. He was met at the airport by the state’s governor, one Jagdeep Dhankar. Two photos have emerged of that meeting and a subsequent one between the two men: this one and this one.

Take a look, for the governor’s posture in both says everything you need to know about him. And I need say no more.

* Out for walks last evening and this morning, I ran into a substantial crowd both times — on foot, scooters, cars, cycles — outside a particular store. I’m talking easily a hundred people, all male. Many without masks. Distancing? Forget it. The owner of the store must have been anticipating trouble, because standing outside the entrance were two hefty bouncers in deep blue shirts, wielding long sticks.

Curiously, the store itself was actually closed. Both times. Were these men waiting for it to open? Likely, but why so long? (Last evening the crowd was nearly unchanged twice that I passed during my walk, 45 minutes apart).

So what does this store sell? Liquor.

There’s a commentary buried in there, I suspect. (Full disclosure: I love my vodka and rum).

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