HOW HAS COVID-19 CHANGED OUR WORLD? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS

By SHAGORIKA EASWAR

The world today looks like something out of one of those sci-fi movies set in a dystopian future in which ashen-faced figures shuffle wearily down streets.

How has COVID-19 changed our world? Let me count the ways.

Some changes were dramatic. With the retail and travel industry gutted, people are predicting an altered landscape even after recovery.

Travel to and from countries will be restricted, stringent health checks put in place. “It’s coming, mark my words,” says an industry insider.

A lady who worked in retail management for much of her life before taking early retirement to take care of an ailing parent says she sees the shift to online shopping becoming more entrenched.

“Yes, there are still people of our generation who like to visit a bricks-and-mortar store, to see, touch and feel merchandise. Smaller locations will cater to those. Just one of each on display, pick what you like and the actual item will be shipped to you.”

There are predictions that manufacturing will return to countries from distant shores because the current set-up is like a block in the supply chain waiting to happen.

Some businesses and initiatives will emerge stronger, others might go under. As I write this, I learn of Junoon folding. Founded by Sanjana Kapoor and funded through donations, it brought writers and thinkers to audiences in Mumbai. These are the voices we need that will be silenced.

Other changes might seem less dramatic or long-lasting, but they nevertheless had a deep impact as each was a chipping away at the small pleasures of life.

No signs announcing garage sales – that sure harbinger of spring.

No sign-ups for baseball and soccer leagues.

No spring and summer camps and activities for children.

No garden society exchanges of prized plants.

No bending down to scratch behind the ears of neighbour’s dog when you meet them on the street.

Then there were changes on personal, family levels.

My husband and I’ve been trying for years now to establish a no-gifts rule when it comes to the adults in the family. We’d go all out for the littlest member, but for the rest of us, we’d give each other the gift of time spent together. However, our sons weren’t fully on board, and along with taking us out for dinners on our birthdays and anniversary, etc., also continued to bring plants and books and chocolates. And so, as I couldn’t walk around in the Birkenstocks I received on my birthday without getting them something in return, we, too, continued to get them small gifts. “This len-den (give-and-take in Hindi) will never end if you don’t listen,” I grumbled periodically, but they dismissed our protests with a grin and a hug.

Until last month. It was our older son’s birthday and since we couldn’t go out, I planned a dinner at home – for the mandated five, before you ask. And since we couldn’t go to stores to check out gifts for him, we turned to Amazon. Which, inundated as it is with people desperately seeking toilet paper and hand wipes, wasn’t able to deliver our gifts in time.

We cut the cake, gave our cards and admitted to a failure of timing, saying the gifts were in the mail.

“You know what, mom, it really is no big deal,” said our son. “Maybe it’s time we stopped doing this anyway.”

Social distancing continues to change our world in new ways.

The town of Newmarket, Ontario, appointed a Chief Positivity Officer to spread goodwill and cheer with the help of newly-appointed positivity ambassadors in these uncertain times.

At the other end of the spectrum were those who were calling a snitch line to report on neighbours who flouted the social distancing regulations.

In recent weeks, my thoughts have turned to a feature in the old Reader’s Digest, Laughter is the Best Medicine.

Because it really is, when you can’t change the dismal reality around you, one way of dealing with it is with humour. Black humour surfaces in times of stress and strife. Laughing at one’s situation works like a safety valve, releasing pressure.

Ritu Mehra forwarded a string of laugh-out-loud jokes. Here are a few:

• This morning I saw a neighbour talking to her cat. It was obvious she thought her cat understood her. I came into the house, told my dog... we laughed a lot.

• I’m so excited... it’s time to take out the garbage. What to wear, what to wear?

• Day 6 of homeschooling: My child just said, “I hope I don’t have the same teacher next year.” I’m offended.

My brother says social distancing is a misnomer, that it should be physical distancing as that’s what the medical experts are aiming for and also because socially, we are perhaps more connected as witnessed by the number of people checking in on others to make sure they are okay or dropping off packets of toilet paper and hand sanitizers on neighbours’ doorsteps.

Of course, there were those who saw this as an opportunity to scam people, offering miracle cures and free masks, etc.

The world as we knew it has changed. Has it changed us for the better or for worse remains to be seen.

And if the change is for the better, will it be long-lasting? In a television interview P. Sainath, author and founder of People’s Archive of Rural India, posed a question:

Why is that those who are so concerned about how people are dying don’t spare a thought for how millions live?