The 40th of Maybe

From a post on Facebook, author and place unknown

Okay, so I suffered a rather long bout of momentary writer's block.  Perhaps it was due to what can now be called a blockade, rather than a lockdown, judging from the number of thoroughfares that have fallen victim to the barricades demarcating them as containment zones.  A depression locked me down when I read of deaths not due to Covid, film stars and migrant workers, cancer and death-by-cycling-home (a novel disease invented in India). Some of them flooded Facebook with obituaries, old pictures and clips of songs and videos. The others managed to elude all but the most dogged of press reporters.  And then friends started texting me asking "What happened to your blog?"  and "We are waiting to read the next episode in the lockdown tales".  So, here it is, a bit of a ramble on things that happen around me. Forgive me, share if you like, comment if you don't, whatever.

Star Wards

This morning we woke up to any number of memes and gifs with the message "May the 4th be with you" accompanied by flying ships and of Yoda glimpses there must be.  This gag has been around since ... well, since Star Wars and "may the force be with you" or, with you may the force be. Forcing a tiny giggle, I pondered over the fact that from Arthur C Clarke (2001, a Space Oddysey - long gone) to Star Wars, ET and everything Wookie, alien or Spock, we have predicted people flying around in spaceships.  Well, it's 2020 and we're not flying or even crawling around, though a number of us have assumed a Darth Vader kind of look, replete with mask and sonorous breathing.  My Ward, being one of the Star wards, is green in colour on the Government map -- no, I am not on the grass. But we are surrounded by Orange and Red wards, so I prefer to have my evening walk on the terrace -- does that make me Luke Skywalker? Sorry, couldn't resist that.  But frankly, what's propping up this entire period is (as given in the image above) the jokes, the memes, the online Ludo, video games,  online Tambola, music shows, WhatsApp gurus, meditation, exercise and Instagram.  

The Magic of 40

And the dates keep shifting as the graphs keep going up.  I entitled this piece The 40th of Maybe.  It's the 40th day, the beginning of May and no one quite knows if the lockdown will be lifted as we move into Phase 3 of the extended lockdown. It was 21 days, then 40, now 54, I believe.  Calendars don't matter anymore - every day is Sunday, says a friend.

But all is not lost.  The number 40 (like the number 9 some weeks ago) has religious significance.  We Christians have a period of 40 days of self-sacrifice which is called Lent and that's followed by the salvation of the world.  Noah got away with it as he had the Ark - but the rain kept him indoors for forty days and forty nights -- just Noah, a bunch of animals and his family. Just like us!  But it resulted in Salvation of the World version 1.0

After 40 days even Moses delivered his people from the Egyptians in Salvation of the World version 2.0 .  But the power of numerology seems to have gone into hiding now. All those predictions on Facebook and WhatsApp said "Don't worry, the Lord will deliver us in forty days - like the Israelites". I'm not losing my forty winks over this.  All the numbers have so far proven to have no meaning - other than the number 19 which of course defines our oppressor, Covid-19.

Let's drink to that.

Meawhile, opinions flow like a waterfall - even if you're not under it, you can't avoid the spray. And the spray tends to get our rose-tinted glasses all misty.  To Hell with the predictions, they said.  Open the booze shops.  And we did.  Today. There were unusually but not unexpected snaking lines of hopeful whistle-wetters waiting in line - many of them keeping social distancing for later, when they would refuse to share with the neighbours! Some of the video footage included ecstatic young men in ethnic wear doing a Michael Jackson routine outside the booze shops.  I glimpsed cops playfully patting the enthusiastic buyers with lathis, a trifle too hard, I thought. I wistfully went through the neatly presented spreadsheets of which shops were open and where -- none in my area, of course.

And then the predictable, ominous sounds of conscientious objectors foretelling everything from drunken orgies to domestic violence -- a fact, I know, but not brought on by alcohol alone as we might like to imagine.  The voices of reason are insisting that all the guys in the booze line should be inked as in elections so that they cannot claim the free food doled out from our taxes or any other mystical funds.  Logistical issues here.  The rest of the family members would go out to get the free food while the drinkers stayed home, knocked it back and indulged in a little Michael Jackson, their inked fingers firmly in the air. Cheers!

Star Wars - the Return of the Maids

With apologies to George Lucas, Steven Speilberg and all, I have to agree that the wars going on in various building societies about the imminent return of the maids tops the list on counts of aggression, disagreement, selfishness and fear.   Incredible arguments abound. Some families are facing disintegration because of their inability to dust, clean, cook and wash -- apparently only the less-privileged are capable of these things. Some well-heeled businessmen do a book balancing act and discover that maids are being paid salaries for no productivity!  Shameful. At least let them contribute to society -- even the contribution of a virus brought from outside is a contribution?  And that leads to fear of contamination, sickness, death -- a pretty good argument in the end.  But, the pro-maid proposers argue, there's an article in the papers (the ones that till last week carried the virus and were not allowed to be delivered?) that the Government has allowed maids provided the flat-owners take full responsibility.   And so the debate continues, being pushed off by 21 days, then 40 days and now 54 days. 

May the Force be with us all.  Right now it seems firmly esconced in the Dark Side.  Probably better to remain isolated like Han Solo ... or did I get that wrong?