Covid, Caution and Commonsense

" I'm shooting a corporate film and there's role in it, for which I can't think of a better fit than you", chimed B at the other end of the line. He's been a friend for a few years, someone who's bloody good at his job, and I didn't have to think too much before I agreed.

The Big Lockdown had just opened up, and while I'd had a fairly productive time, I could do with some real human interaction. Obviously, all the necessary precautions would be taken - the crew was small, there would be masks, hand sanitizers, social distancing, yada, yada. The shoot was to  be spread over a couple of days, including a prospective all-nighter, and I began to look forward to it, also because it had friends  I've hung out with in the past.

When the day of the shoot arrived, the best we could get at social distancing was the avoidance of hugs. Sharing cigarettes amongst the crew was also conspicuous by its absence. The six feet distancing though? Forget it. Ain't ever going to happen in this country.

As most conversations today are wont to, ours veered ineluctably towards the virus and the lockdown.
Bangalore had, until then, been a paragon of best practices in fighting the pandemic. There were less than 3500 cases across the state.

" That number is so difficult to believe", said B. 

" I was at a wedding in Chitraduga, around 200 kilometres away from Bangalore, just last week. Nary a person there bothered wearing a mask. In fact, I was made fun of for wearing mine"

The shoot itself, as expected, went off well. There was much camaraderie, and conversations slowly moved away from being virus-centric to other issues that come with old friends catching up.

A couple of days later, my phone rang. It was B again.

"I have news", he began, ominously.

"Remember I told you about the wedding I was at? Turns out that a few people there tested positive.  It's been over a week and I'm alright. However, it's possible I'm asymptomatic and I ought to let people I've hung out with, know."

Cymbals crashed in my mind. Deja vu. 

This was almost the replay of a conversation I'd had with Rhon, the day after the shoot.

Rhon and I have been part of a cabal that saw adolescence off together. He is, every once in a while, capable of laying bare some of the simplest theories or explanations for some of the most vexed issues of the universe. 

" The day we get to drink water off our taps without the fear of disease is the day India can be considered to be a developed country", is one such. At once, it drowned out the reams of economic data and soft power rhetoric that the rest of us had laid laid out in our spirits-powered arguments. 

The man stays in Singapore these days, and we keep abreast of each other's lives over Zoom and phone calls. They had come out of lockdown a few weeks before, and if there's a country that knows a thing or two about being sterile, it's got to be this.

When I called Rhon the day of the shoot, it was,in part, to share with him the fact that I'd stepped out for the first time in over two months and also partly to share the apprehension of having ventured out inspite of having my elderly mother at home. Had I been too reckless? Should I have been more responsible? 

Seeking validation? Perhaps.

"Being cocooned at home is really no answer for anything", he reassured me, " no immunity every got built by isolation".

" The virus is going to remain in the air for a long time and we've just got to learn to tame it by taking precautions. There's also the matter of post-cautions"

"Erm...post cautions?"

" Wearing masks and carrying sanitizers have now been templatized as necessary precautions to counter the virus. As post-cautions go, washing hands regularly has been the only advertised measure" 

" That is true", I agree.

" What we also know is that there are 3 entry points for the virus - the eyes, the nose and the mouth. It apparently nests in the throat and multiplies. We've also been told that heat kills the damn thing, haven't we? "

Indeed.

"So then each time you go out, make sure you're masked up and carry sanitizer. But when we come back home, in addition to washing your hands, make sure you take  steam inhalations for your nose and your eyes and do a salt water gargle with warm water. This way, you give yourself the best chance of  nipping any inflamation of the mucous membrane, in the bud" 

"To be sure", he hastens to add, "it's no cure. It just ensures that you treat Covid like a  flu - which it is- without giving it the kind of deference that is perhaps unwarranted. 

 

" Did you come up with this yourself?", I marveled. 

"Actually, no", he offers. "There was something along these lines that went viral some time ago about how this could be a cure. The theory got rubbished. All I'm saying is it seems to be a commonsensical SOP under the circumstances"

"In a way, it's also similar to the ancient Indian custom of never entering a house without first washing one's feet. It used to be standard operating procedures for centuries before footwear became common place" , I said aloud, to no one in particular.

"It also illustrates the difference between you and I", he chortled, " you keep looking for an excuse to bury your head in the past. I'm just more forward thinking".

The shutters in my head downed. This round was his. 

By the time B's warning call came in, I'd already steamed my eyelashes off  and gargled my tonsils into oblivion. 

Here I am, almost a month later, untouched by the virus. Yet. And grateful for the visionary friends I try and surround myself with.