Monday, April 13, 2020

The Affair


The ongoing “lockdown” period gave me an opportunity to delve into my creative writing diaries, notes and rough drafts. 

I discovered a trove of my incomplete writings and unearthed some unfinished stories. 

I have decided to complete a few of these unfinished stories. 

Here is one...

THE AFFAIR
A Passionate Love Story
Short Fiction
By
VIKRAM KARVE

Your first love always has an enduring place in your heart.

Nisha was my first love – in fact – she was my only love.

I have had many affairs – many “one-night stands” – but they were all full of carnal physical “lust”.

With Nisha – it was love – a fanatical impassioned love – of course – there was intense physical sensual lovemaking – but it was much beyond
carnal lust.

Yes – Dear Reader – my affair with Nisha was a genuine full-fledged “love” affair – the longest intimate relationship I have ever had with a woman.

Of course – it all started with wild frenzied erotic “lust” – but somewhere on the way – it turned into passionate love.

I fell deeply in love with Nisha – and – she fell totally in love with me too.

That’s why – when the affair ended – and we had to part – I was totally heartbroken.

And – I am sure Nisha was terribly heartbroken too.

I knew that my affair with Nisha would end the day Nisha’s assignment in Auckland came to an end.

Nisha would fly back to India – to join her husband, her daughter, her family – and – our torrid love affair would come to an end.

We knew that our affair was temporary – and it could not be converted into a permanent relationship.

Nisha had made it quite clear that she was in no position to leave her husband, her daughter and her family.

Nisha lived in a Joint Family – her marriage was an arranged marriage – a “business” marriage of two families – and it was unimaginable for her to divorce her husband in the conservative society in which she lived – because this would badly affect many familial and business relationships.

Nisha would never leave her family.

She would never come to Auckland to live with me forever.

So – the end of our affair was inevitable.

We even knew the exact day it was going to happen – the inevitable end of our affair.

We should have been prepared for it.

We thought we had steeled our emotions and were prepared for the last day when our affair would end.

But when it happened – we were devastated.

The excruciating pain in our hearts made us realize the extent to which we had fallen in love with each other.

Dear Reader – before I tell you how our affair ended – let me tell you how it all began.

Just 6 months ago – I boarded the Seoul Auckland Flight at Incheon Airport.

I walked towards my seat – and – I sat down.

People were still boarding the aircraft.

A few minutes later – a woman stopped near me.

She looked at the seat numbers on top – and she said to me: “Excuse me – I am in the window seat…”

I looked at her.

A “Hunter” is always on the lookout for “Prey”.

Similarly – I am always on the lookout for women to seduce.

My “sixth sense” told me that this woman was a likely “quarry”.

She was no ravishing beauty – in fact – she was quite ordinary looking. 

She was not “fair and lovely” – in fact – she had a rather “wheatish” complexion.

She did not have a “sexy” figure – in fact – she was quite plump and “chubby” – like a typical middle-aged married woman who has stopped bothering about her weight and worrying about her figure.

To put it in a nutshell – she was a “Plain Jane”.

You may think that it is easiest to seduce “sexy” looking women – but my experience is quite the opposite – it is the “Plain Jane” types who are the most uninhibited – and they make better lovers too.

While I was immersed in these thoughts – the woman said to me – once again: “Excuse me – I am in the window seat…”

“Oh – I am sorry…” I said to her.

I got up from my seat – and stood in the aisle – to let her enter comfortably.

She lifted her bag – and while trying to put it in the overhead luggage rack – she became a bit unsteady.

I seized the opportunity – and helped her put her bag into the overhead baggage space.

I went close to her and held both her arms – helping her push her bag in.

Our bodies rubbed.

She was dressed in a salwar kurta.

The fabric of her kurta below her armpit was wet with sweat.

She looked and smelt natural – no attempt to camouflage her raw steamy sensuousness behind a synthetic mask of make-up and deodorants.

I bodies rubbed – she let her body rub against mine.

Our bodies rubbing together – our hands touching each other – this aroused lusty passion in me.

Never before had the touch of a woman impassioned me with sexual yearning to such an extent.

I felt like hugging her there and then.

But – I controlled myself – and moved away from her.

We were in an aircraft – and people were looking at us.

She sat down on her seat.

I shut the overhead baggage rack door – and – I sat down in my seat next to her.

I knew that I was going to seduce this woman and make love to her.

She had shown a subtle inclination.

When our bodies had rubbed – she had not cringed – but she had let our bodies rub – and she seemed quite comfortable with the close contact with me.

Was this a signal to me…?

Now – I would have to take the initiative.

But – I would have to wait for the right time to make my move.

When you want to have an affair with a woman – and – if you sense that she is interested in having an affair with you – one of the most crucial decisions is when to make your first move.

The timing is important – the situation should be conducive – the woman should be in a responsive mood – acquiescent – ready to yield to your advances – otherwise – things can go terribly wrong.

After she had settled down in her seat – I introduced myself to her – I told her my name.

She told me her name too.

Her name was “Nisha”.

I looked at her – smiled – and said: “Going to New Zealand for the first time…?”

“Yes…” she said, “in fact it is the first time I am going to a foreign country…”

“Are you from India…?” I asked her.

“Yes…” she said – and she told me the name of her town.

“A Tourist Visit…?” I asked her.

“No. No. An “exchange” program…” she said.

“Exchange Program…?”

“I am a lecturer – it’s a faculty exchange program with Auckland University – I will teach for a semester there – and someone from there will teach a semester at out university…” she said.

“That’s good – one semester – so you will be in Auckland for 6 months…?”

“Yes…” she said, “almost 6 months…”

“Oh. That’s good…” I said.

“And you…? Going for Tourism…? Did you also come on the Mumbai – Seoul Flight…?” she asked me.

“No. No. I had come to Seoul for some work. I live in Auckland…” I said.
                                          
“Oh. I thought you were Indian…” she said.

“Well – I am a “Kiwi-Indian” – my father migrated to New Zealand for studies long ago – and then – he stayed on over here. I am born and brought up in New Zealand…” I said.

“Have you visited India…?” she asked.

“Of course – several times – our relatives are there – all over – but – I haven’t visited your hometown…” I said.

“You must…” she said, “next time you come there – I will host you…”

“And – I will host you in Auckland…” I said.

“No. No. They have already booked accommodation for me – in some place called Epsom…” she said.

“Oh – so you will be in the Epsom Campus of Auckland University…?” I said, “It’s a beautiful campus – and Epsom is a lovely place to stay…”

“You live nearby…?” she asked.

“Not very near – but – not very far either – I live near CBD – the Central Business District – just a 15 minute drive from Epsom…” I said.

“Oh…” she said – looking a trifle disappointed.

“You don’t worry – I will settle you down in your hostel – and I will come and see you every day – I will be your “local guardian”…” I said.

She smiled and said: “Local Guardian…!!! It sounds so funny…”

The air-hostess arrived with a tray of food – and she asked Nisha: “Indian Vegetarian Meal…?”

“Yes…” Nisha said.

The air-hostess placed the food tray in front of Nisha.

She opened the wrapper – looked at the food – and asked me: “I hope this food is vegetarian…”

“It should be…” I said.

“This cutlet – can you taste it and see…” she said.

I took a small piece of cutlet with the fork – tasted it – and said: “It is vegetable cutlet – vegetarian…”

“Thank you…” she said, “you have to be sure these days…”

“Yes…” I said, “You’ll have a problem getting vegetarian food in some parts of New Zealand – but – Auckland is okay…”

“I hope the place where I am staying has vegetarian food…” she said.

“Don’t worry – if you have any problem in Auckland – I am always there for you – your “Local Guardian”…” I said.

“Yes…” she said, “It is good I met you…”

I was delighted at the way our conversation was going – she was warming up to me – my “sixth sense” told me that she would succumb to my charms sooner than later.

My dinner arrived – a continental meal.

And then – they doused the lights.

The Incheon–Auckland flight is a long flight – overnight – more than 10 hours.

I said “good night” to Nisha.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Sometime later – I felt Nisha’s head on my shoulder.

Her face was turned towards mine.

I looked at her face – her mouth.

Her succulent mouth was literally begging to be kissed.

I was overwhelmed with desire.

I felt like kissing her fleshy juicy lips.

I looked across the aisle – everyone was asleep.

A quick kiss – no one would see – or know.

It was good that I controlled myself – because – Nisha’s head suddenly moved and she opened her eyes – and said: “Oh – I am so sorry – I just fell asleep…”

“It’s okay…” I said, “You can feel comfortable with me…”

We talked.

I am easy to talk to – so her words came tumbling out.

She told me all about herself – and – I told her all about me.

Then we went to sleep – only to be woken up early next morning for tea and breakfast.

Next morning – after we reached Auckland – I hired a cab – and I dropped Nisha to her accommodation in Epsom and settled her down.

I looked at my watch – it was 9 AM.

I told her to freshen up and get ready – I would be back at 11 – I would show her the campus nearby – take her out for lunch and shopping at New-Market nearby – buy her a local SIM Card – a Transport Card – and whatever she wanted.

And that’s what I did.

First we went across to the Epsom Campus of Auckland University – which was just across the road from her accommodation.

She finished her registration formalities at the Epsom Campus – had a tour of the campus – and then – I walked her down to Newmarket – where I showed her some “Indian Cuisine Places” and I treated her to an Indian Vegetarian Lunch at one of my favourite places.

Shopping done – we started walking back.

“Ah – there is one more thing – you’ll have to open a bank account here – and give details to the university so they can put in your stipend – remember – they told you when you registered…” I said.

“Oh yes – I had forgotten…” she said.

I took her to my bank – and opened a bank account for her – and got her a credit card too.

“Thank you so much. You have been such a help. What would I have done without you…?” she said.

“I have put in some money in your account – so that you are comfortable till next week…” I said, “Here – in New Zealand – they will pay you weekly…”

“Why did you put money in my account…? I have got dollars with me – and a Forex Card…”

“It’s okay…” I said. 

“Why are you doing all this for me…?” she asked, “I just met you on the plane – you don’t even know me – and you are doing so much for me…”

I am sure she knew why I was doing all this for her.

And if she was so naïve that she didn’t see my intentions – she would find out soon.

Dear Reader – I am no altruist – I don’t “invest” – unless I am sure of a “Return” on my Investment – “ROI” – as they call it.

So – in answer to her question – I said: “Well – I am looking forward to a beautiful friendship…”

“Me too…” she said.

When we reached her room – she said that she was tired – and that she wanted to sleep – but – I said to her: “It is 3 o’clock in the afternoon now. The best way to get rid of jet lag is to sleep at the right time – at night – so – I’ll take you out for a drive – show you all the places – and then – we will have dinner at my favourite pub…”

We went for a long drive around Auckland – on the waterfront – to Mission Bay – St Heliers – Quay Street – and it was during the drive – watching her body language – that I felt that the time was ripe – so – instead of taking her to the pub – I drove straight home.

I parked the car at my usual place on the street near my home – and I said to her: “Come – I will show you my home…”

“You live in this tall building…?” she asked me.

“Yes – most of the houses in Auckland are independent cottages – or “bungalows” – as you call them in India – but I prefer to live in a flat in this high-rise…” I said.

We rode up the elevator – and – we entered my tiny flat of the 12th floor.

“Oh what a lovely view…” Nisha said – looking out of the window.

Yes – you can see the harbour – the sea – and that’s the “spaghetti” junction below – where so many roads converge…” I said.

While Nisha was enjoying the beautiful view – I opened the fridge – I poured two glasses of wine – and – I offered one to Nisha.

“I don’t drink…” she said.

“It’s wine – red wine – it’s sweet you will like it…” I said.

“There is really no need…” she said.

“There is…” I said – and I gave her the glass of wine.

She sipped – and said: “Yes – it is sweet – this is the first time I am drinking…”

While she sipped her wine and enjoyed the view – I looked at her.

There was nothing delicate about her.

Plump and lusty – she oozed raw sexuality.

I liked voluptuous, sensual, earthy women – the rough-and-ready kind – and – Nisha was just that.

I ached with desire – and I drank her in with my eyes, insatiably.

“Some more wine…?” I asked her.

“No…” she said – giving me her empty glass.

I kept our glasses on the table – and walked back to her.

I stood close to her – looked into her eyes.

She turned her face up towards me – her skin was moist with sweat – and her breathing became heavy and rapid.

I don’t think she could have given me a clearer signal.

I pulled her in my arms and kissed her.

I kissed her warm mouth – a fervent passionate kiss.

I was astonished at the intensity of her response.

She kissed me back – with a crude eagerness that surprised me.

As our tongues intertwined – I could taste the sweet taste of the red wine mixed with her hot saliva.

It was an intense lingering kiss – and I was truly aroused.

It was after a long time that our lips disengaged.

I locked Nisha in a passionate embrace.

Intoxicated by the aroma of her natural scent – I caressed her neck with my tongue.

She melted in my arms.

And – I took her into the bedroom.

This is a love story – not erotica – so – I will not describe the explicit details of our lovemaking.

I will just say that – in the next six months – I realized the wildest of my fantasies with her.

We made unrestrained love to each other – in all possible ways – at all possible places.

A few days later – I asked her to shift into my flat.

“There is only one bed…” she said.

“Isn’t one bed enough for us…?” I said.

She smiled mischievously – and said: “Thank you for the offer – I would love to move in with you – but I feel it is better as things are. We can always meet whenever we want to – can’t we…?”

Maybe she wanted to be careful – to keep things discreet.

I don’t know whether she had told her husband about me – and how much she had told him.

Of course – I didn’t ask her – and I never talked about her husband, her daughter, her family.

I didn’t want her getting all sentimental about things back home – and going on a guilt trip.

It would ruin everything.

On weekends – I took her our sightseeing – to Rotorua – to Coromandel – to the islands near Auckland – and during her Easter Break – we went to Wellington – and crossed Cook Strait – a breath-taking sea cruise to Picton on South Island – and then we travelled all over South Island – Christchurch – Queenstown – Mount Cook – and the awesome Milford Sound – where she remarked: “This place is so wonderful – I must bring my daughter here…”

“Why don’t you call them here for a visit…?” I asked.

“Not now…” she said, “we’ll all come on a tour later…”

And – I didn’t mention the topic again.

During our visits to various places – she would make me click pictures of her posing before various attractions – and maybe – she was sending those pictures to her family.

I am sure she didn’t tell them who was clicking the pictures – and of course – I did not figure in any of the pictures.

New Zealand is around 7 hours ahead of India.

Nisha told me that she called her husband and daughter at tea time every day – when it would be breakfast time in India – and she did this during our tours too – when I would leave her alone to make her call.

But these small interruptions did not matter – and soon – she would be back with me – in body and spirit – and all other things were “out of sight – out of mind” – as the saying goes.

Our love affair flourished – mesmerising spells of frenzied fervour, sensual passion and sheer ecstasy.

And so – six months passed – the happiest time of my life.

Then – the day arrived – Nisha’s last day in New Zealand – and our last night together – before she left by the morning flight to Incheon – on her way back to India.

For the last time – we went to bed together – and we demonstrated how passionately we loved each other. 

I wanted to make our last lovemaking session extra-special for her – so – I did what she liked best – the thing that pleasured her the most and drove her into ecstatic frenzy.

She climaxed – and – as her orgasm subsided – she relaxed.

But – she did not let me go – she hugged me tightly for a long time and fell asleep in my arms.

I put my arms around her and caressed her hair.

It was sheer bliss.

The sound of my mobile phone disturbed my trance.

It was time to get ready and leave for the airport.

I woke up Nisha and told her to get ready.

Half an hour later – we were driving in my car towards Auckland International Airport.

Dear Reader – this was not what we had planned it.

But then – in real life – sometimes – the “story” doesn’t follow the script you have “written”.

There is a line in a song I like very much – “Woh afsana jise anjam tak lana na ho mumkin – use ek khoobsurat mod dekar chhorna hi achha…” – which roughly translated means – “if it is not possible to take a (love) story to its ultimate goal (logical conclusion) – then – it is best to give the (love) story a beautiful climax and leave it from there (end the story)…”

That is what we intended to do on our last day together.

Make passionate love – have the ultimate climax – say the last goodbye – and – part in a beautiful mood.

And that is what we did – at least the first two parts – consummate lovemaking – terrific climax – ultimate bliss – as we lay in each other’s arms.

But – when it came to parting in a beautiful mood – it all went wrong.

We had planned we would have a sweet goodbye kiss in my home – and Nisha would go to the airport in a Taxi.

We kissed each other – a long impassioned kiss.

When we disengaged our lips – I was so overwhelmed by emotion that I could not bear to part with her at that moment.

So – I insisted that I would drop her to the airport in my car.

I wanted to have those last few moments with her.

When you know you are going to lose your most precious thing forever – you want to hold on to it till the last moment.

And I am sure that she too had the same feelings – and she wanted to cherish those last few moments with me – because – when I insisted that I would drive her to the airport – she readily agreed.

Nisha and I – we wanted to hold onto each other for the last moments – till the inevitable parting happened.

We drove to the airport in silence – because – there was nothing to talk.

There was no question of meeting each other again – or – any form of communication.

Nisha would resume her life in India – and me – I would be back to my lonely life out here in Auckland.

Our passionate affair – the six months we had spent together – would be like a beautiful dream we would cherish forever.

While driving to the airport – my heart ached so much that I could barely concentrate on the road.

I parked the car in the airport parking lot.

I looked at Nisha.

She looked at me.

It was the last time we would be sitting together. 

Nisha took me in her arms – she kissed me gently – and she said to me: “You are the best thing that has happened to me in my life…”

I pressed her face into my neck and said: “I love you…”

Tears were streaming down her face. 

Nisha smiled – a poignant heartbreaking smile.

She kissed me again – and said: “Goodbye – my darling…”

“When I first saw you – I knew – you were the one for me…” I said.

“It was sheer luck – getting a seat right next to you…” she said.

“Our love affair was destined…” I said.

“Yes…” she said.

“We both got we wanted – didn’t we…?” I said.

“Yes. In fact – I got much more than I wanted…” she said.

“And now – the beautiful dream is over – and there will only be memories – sweet memories…” I said.

“Yes…” she said, “Let’s say our final “Good-Bye” now…”

“Let me come with you till the airport entrance gate and see you off…” I said, “I’ll help with your luggage…”

“No – it will be too painful for me…” she said.

She looked at me for a long time – her eyes filled with tears.

We got out of the car.

I opened the boot of the car and took out her bags.

Then – I saw a baggage trolley nearby – so – I went and got it.

I put her bags in the baggage trolley.

“Let me come…” I said.

“No…” she said, “you go and sit in the car – and – please don’t follow me.”

I looked beseechingly at her.

“Please go and sit in the car…” she said, “please don’t make it more painful for me…”

I went and sat in the car.

Nisha looked at me for some time – she looked totally crestfallen.

Then – she abruptly wheeled around – and she walked briskly towards the airport departure terminal gate – pushing the baggage trolley.

My heart ached – I felt terrible.

I could not control myself – so – I got out of my car – and – I followed her.

I had to say a last “goodbye” to Nisha.

Nisha must have sensed that I was following her – but she kept walking towards the airport building.

Just before she entered the departure lounge of Auckland Airport – Nisha turned around and looked at me.

Then – she left her bag where it was – and – she ran back towards me.

She hugged me – and – she kissed me on the mouth.

I kissed her back – and long passionate kiss – our tongues intertwined. 

I don’t know whether people were looking at us – but we didn’t care.

We hugged each other – and kissed – passionately – with such fervor – that we lost all sense of time and place.

It was a long time when – suddenly – we were jolted to reality – and we disengaged our lips and bodies. 

After hugging and kissing me so passionately – Nisha could not control her emotions.

She broke down into tears.

She was sobbing uncontrollably – and – tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Seeing Nisha crying so heartbreakingly – I couldn’t control my emotions.

I broke down into tears and started to cry inconsolably.

They say that “men don’t cry”.

But then – I was not a man.

Like Nisha – I too was a woman. 

VIKRAM KARVE

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Disclaimer:
1. This story is a fictional spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Saturday, April 4, 2020

Life in the Times of Corona


Sharing an insightful article by erudite Naval Scholar Srikant Kesnur (with permission of the author)

LIFE IN THE TIMES OF CORONA

One day, some day, when (when?) it is all over, tales will be told, stories written, movies made about this phenomenon that took hold of our lives and changed the world forever. Hashtag ‘life in the times of corona’ will trend, it will go viral and literature on it will become a pandemic (ok, bad joke). But that’s still in the future. What about the here and now? When almost all of humankind is locked in a mortal combat with a micro-organism.

It was said that black swan events happen ever so rarely – maybe once in a lifetime if one is ‘lucky’. And yet, in the last thirty years we have seen three such cataclysmic developments. First, about three decades ago, when we saw the ‘fall of the wall’ and the collapse of communism. It changed the world that we had known all along. As young people, in early twenties we welcomed the end of several autocracies and dreamt of a new order that would be kinder and better. 

Then, two decades ago we saw ‘the fall of twin towers’ and the ‘war on terror’. New words and phrases entered our lexicon, countries and coalitions were now ‘fighting adverbs’, in the memorable words of one author. Again, the world around and about us changed. India had always seen different facets of terrorism, now the rest of the globe was witnessing them first hand.

But what about this? The earlier two events were geo politics related – they held us in thrall but it was a terrain that many of us were comfortable with. And they did not seem to affect the ‘common man’ so much. After all, it was argued, why would the aam aadmi in India or Wanjiku in Kenya worry much about what happened in Romania? Some others may also include the financial meltdown of 2008 and the computer/IT/social media revolution as other seminal events of last three decades. Possibly, they are right. Arguably, the world bounced back from the Lehmann brothers induced crisis and the IT/social media revolution is still ongoing and unfolding in a spectacular manner. Also, while being disruptive to the extreme, developments in the field of IT and media have been viewed as largely beneficial to humankind.

COVID 19 is unlike anything we have seen or known. An unseen microbe that is terrifying us. As a Sailor in my unit said the other day, with an earthy insight, ‘Sir, whether it’s a man eating tiger or mad elephant, a bullet or missile, we at least know what is the danger, where it is coming from. We may not see it but we can sense it”. We can, conceivably, have some barriers against a known and seen enemy. Here, it is invisible but seemingly ubiquitous. And, it is completely non-discriminatory in whom it chooses to attack.

Humankind has faced pandemics before and one may argue that this is not new. Maybe, some were prescient enough to even see this. The Spanish Flu of last century and Ebola of last decade are frequently cited as examples. But one was so last century and other afflicted the so called ‘dark continent’ or undeveloped areas where healthcare systems did not exist. On the contrary, in case of COVID 19, it began life in the second most powerful nation of the world, a rich country and an aspiring hegemon. It has hit nations in Western Europe, USA, Singapore, South Korea, and Japan – all first world nations with state of the art medical facilities. And everybody – medical experts, scientists, economists, epidemiologists, virologists, microbiologists, politicians – is clueless. There is no cure, no vaccine and this contagion spreads faster than anything known before and in a manner that affects every aspect of our daily existence.
If someone had waged a bet with you a year ago, that the world would come to a standstill, if someone had proclaimed a month ago that cities and countries would be in lockdown, if someone had said a fortnight ago that trains and buses and flights will cease to operate we would have laughed our guts off and sent the ROFL emoji. Who would have imagined at the beginning of the third decade of the third millennium that our response to a virus would be to ‘bring our lives to a grinding halt and turn our tails’? Modern, post-modern, globalisation, hi tech, state of the art all seem ironical, even meaningless, phrases in the face of this microbe monster. And arming ourselves with latest missiles, nukes, gadgets, and robots doesn’t seem to help one bit.

To be sure, as a pandemic it might still claim less lives than the previous ones. As someone illustrated with a graphic the other day, Covid 19 is still a small blip compared to even the Swine Flu of a decade ago or HIV/AIDS that’s an ongoing scourge. But I cannot recall any pandemic having this sort of impact, not merely on health but on global economy, global polity and other disciplines, as this one. Author and historian Yuval Noah Harari calls it ‘a global crisis…perhaps the biggest crisis of our generation’. India’s leading commentator Pratap Bhanu Mehta, early in the onset of the crisis, wrote of the many dimensions that could play out – nature of governments, privacy concerns, new modes of surveillance, the changing relationship between the citizen and the state. The Foreign Policy journal invited leading thinkers to give their views on a post Covid world order. Many experts have described it as humankind at war or atleast in a warlike situation. Several other articles wonder about the fate of political leaders handling this crisis during the next hustings. Implicit in all this is an acknowledgement that this event is an inflection point, a point which may be seen in future, as some suggest, as time before and after Covid. While that may be an exaggeration, this episode has brought out the stark reality that ‘history has still not ended’ and our enemies may not always be ideological.

But would a new world unfold after Covid. Frankly, I doubt if anyone knows. Covid shows us to be terrible at forecasting, so there is no reason why our predictions elsewhere should be correct. Yet that has not stopped us from imagining that world because we all are (or many of us imagine we are) futurologists of some sort. We reflect the sentiments of the American President and WW 2 General, Dwight Eisenhower who said “in preparing for battle I have found that plans are useless but planning is indispensable’. Thus, we plan for a future based on some dreams and hopes. In the same spirit, therefore, let me reflect or ruminate on what the future could be.  Unlike, many grey eminences who have mulled over the impact this event would have on globalisation, international relations, politics and culture, mine is an attempt to put together a few issues of ordinary human existence that have played out in the last few days.

The first of these relates to our relationship with nature and environment. Much commentary, both informed and uninformed, has hinted that this epidemic is an outcome of our environmental depredations, our excesses against nature and natural ecosystems of rivers, birds, animals, forests, soil and so on. It has been suggested that humankind had gone berserk and this was payback time. As one sardonic message said “we were the virus and Corona is the vaccine”. TV and video messages during the time of lockdowns suggest purer air quality, pristine waters, animals roaming more freely including in urban spaces, more bird songs and a process of ‘earth healing herself’. There is wistfulness about times long past when life was not so past faced and we had the time to appreciate our surroundings. Hence, this episode should (or could) serve as a wakeup call to all of us about our compact with nature. Will we see a benign world that is more caring about sustainable development? Will we see greater action on environmental issues – climate change for example? Will we go easy on deforestation?

Or is this all ersatz posturing? Will it be return to status quo? There are also a couple of uncomfortable questions qua the environment that this event throws up. While regular hand wash is advised (and good), will it result in huge wastage of water – a precious resource in itself? Can the poor and miserable afford this exercise when they don’t get decent water for cooking? Will this deprive the underclass further? What about issue of tissue paper and toilet paper – both come with huge environmental costs? Our TVs showed assorted celebrities demonstrating how to wash hands – with manicured faces next to designer sinks and continuous running water they looked obscene, as though mocking the poor. Soak, Rinse, Lather, Repeat may be a good formula for hands or clothes but is it also a colossal waste of natural resource? So is this designer environmentalism or will we see a kinder gentler new world? While the jury is out on that, we must be thankful that the subject of caring for our natural surroundings has received greater traction with this episode.

The second issue relates to social behaviour. Man is a social animal. In recent days he has been subject to a variety of new norms of behaviour – quarantine, social distancing, lockdown, Janata Curfew and so on. The instinct for self-preservation will enable some sort of temporary compliance. But is this is the harbinger of permanent behavioural change? By nature and character, most of us love company and seek assurance from a helping hand; touch and feel are important to us, embrace, hugs, kisses (the jhappi-pappi modes of expression) convey a lot. Beyond that, the need to laugh and cry together, to party and grieve together, to shake hands or clink glasses, to commiserate or communicate, mandate a group or set of people who are our fellow travellers in the journey of life. The real nuisance value of novel Corona virus is that it can spread so easily – by touch and by merely being in proximity. As the whatsapp meme goes ‘from saying god bless to a sneeze we now say oh my god’. So would this change our norms of social behaviour in future? Would we see less tactile means of greeting (to use the memorable phrase of noted commentator Swapan Dasgupta) or would we resort to saying “Love me? Stay away” as Maj Gen S Pachori, a senior respected friend, says in his blog. Or would we throw all caution to the winds and host ‘Corona parties’ as some people are reportedly doing in Europe and America. I, for one, cannot visualise human beings ploughing a lonely furrow eternally, however valid that is as the ultimate truth of our lives.

This brings us to the related third point. How does a human being handle solitude or loneliness or the physical act of quarantining and reducing the number of people he meets? While on the one hand, there are many views extolling the virtues of spending quality time with family, there are, on the other hand, enough memes and jokes about the horrors that happen when spouses or family members are thrown together for more time than they bargained. Manu Joseph, one of my favourite writers cheekily tweeted ‘spare a thought for all those having affairs’. The underlying thought beneath both themes is the acknowledgement that human beings are not very great at handling protracted periods of ‘relative isolation’ in whatever manner one qualifies the term. Inadvertently, this has resulted in some focus on host of issues - mental health, depression, geriatric care, looking after care givers and tips on how to handle time and relationships. Host of prescriptions have sprung up – from diaries of prisoners kept in solitary confinement to examples of POWs. People in ‘lonely’ professions or avocations have been sought for their advice and in that respect there is none better than my friend and young colleague and great national hero Abhilash Tomy who sailed around the world all alone and almost repeated the feat. Tomy summons an inner calm that many can’t easily claim to have; therefore, his experiences are worth listening to, especially the second time when he awaited rescue, lying with a broken back, on a dismasted vessel, in stormy seas for four days with characteristic phlegmatic resolve and extraordinary willpower. Do read his wonderful column in Hindustan Times of 29 Mar 20 for a masterclass in handling extreme isolation.

But I guess even Tomy can’t do much about the paranoia that this pandemic has induced. We have all been engulfed by a sense of panic bordering on foolishness. “Have I washed my hands for 20 secs or, my god, was it 18? Did I touch that surface with my left hand or right? What is the ph factor in a tomato? Will garlic and ginger save me? That sore throat, should I rush to the hospital? What if this newspaper is carrying germs? Was I more than one metre away when he sneezed? Did she cough in her hanky? Does my handwash have sufficient alcohol?” A variety of such questions that are a mix of suspicion, delusion and paranoia create artificial anxieties. I wonder if human beings have ever felt so vulnerable even in their own homes. It’s not just our inner OCDs coming to the fore; it is also the sum of all our fears surfacing. This paranoia also induces mood swings. Sometimes, we are depressed, conjuring up all doomsday scenarios. The media is not of much help – all sorts of dire predictions about millions and billions and hundreds of billions being affected are making the rounds. Bad news has a way of gaining more currency and, if they are unverified rumours, even more. On other days, we clutch at positive straws. 

Maybe, immunity of Indians is greater, perhaps the heat will beat the virus, spicy food will boost our chances, the virus strain is mutating into less vicious one in India and so forth. At the end of the day, we are none the wiser. Information overload drowns us.

So will the post Covid world see many of us behaving as the character Sheldon in ‘The Big Bang Theory’ does - insisting on insulating himself against all sort of germs and viruses. Will we see a more sanitised, sterilised, disinfectant obsessed world? Or will it be a difficult to sustain an artificial bubble? My bets are on the latter, but who knows.

The other dimension to social interaction is the broader one across class echelons as part of our many transactions and contracts. This is another domain affected by Covid 19. While the virus itself hits indiscriminately, greater share of the suffering is borne by the poor and weaker sections of society, as is often the case. The overwhelming narrative in India is that this is a disease that the rich imported through their travels and interactions and inflicted on the poor. Like most narratives, it lacks nuance and depth. However, like most clichés there is a kernel of truth in this. For a long time, the poorer sections, the slum dwellers, the lowest strata seemed removed from the disease, despite shabby living conditions and abysmal standards of hygiene infrastructure. This was remarkable considering how most epidemics seem to usually originate from such quarters. However, lockdown and its economic consequences bring home not just the disproportionate share of suffering inflicted on them but also the human aspects of this tragedy, reflected in the long walk of the migrants. Also, it must be remembered that social distancing, hand washing, etc are privileges to which much of poor in India do not have access.

For middle and upper class India, the sudden deprivation of labour for assortment of services and manual jobs has meant a ‘back to basics’ existence and own share of ‘hardships’. The informal sector was India’s biggest employment generator and its temporary suspension has both political and social implications. Socially, it may have resulted in greater acknowledgement of the work done by the underclass and there are reports of many employers protecting salaries or going out of their way to help their staff. But, beyond this, the salutary effect has been the recognition of a whole lot of ‘ordinary’ professions and menial jobs and their importance in our lives

In a country that frequently seems besotted by shallow celebrities and artificial icons, by glamorous professions and glitzy middle class obsessions, would this reset some of the terms of engagement. Would we rewrite the compact between the elites and the ‘great unwashed’ in more equitable and benign manner? Would we be able to sustain the groundswell of sympathy and understanding that seem to have percolated among some of us? This would be an interesting space to look out for.

One of the fallouts of lockdown, for a whole lot of us at least, is the possibility of having time for self-introspection. There is now enough ‘me time’. The relation with oneself is an abiding theme of spirituality and religion (used generically) and I am not treading into that territory, though becoming more ‘spiritual’ should certainly be a welcome outcome. I am on the more grounded territory of time to contemplate the ‘hows and whys’ of our life. This is possibly the time to question some certitudes that we had internalised. ‘Are we chasing far too many glories and coveting far too many successes. Are our notions of these faux? Is it time to reset and reboot some buttons in life? Have I ticked my bucket list or am I still in thrall of the rat race? Should I think more of my health, diet and exercise? How do I navigate the rest of my life? Or am I overthinking the whole thing?

Just as earth needed time to heal, humans too needed time to repair. To reflect and ruminate. Since society and nation are but the aggregate of individuals, it may be possible to posit that even a tiny recalibration in a ‘positive’ direction can result in much common weal and public good.

One such example is our civic sense and public hygiene. As Indians, even the poorest are conscious of personal hygiene – it’s a part of our DNA. However, we falter terribly when we come to extending that to public spaces. Coughing or sneezing into a handkerchief is about the most basic forms of etiquette; we surely did not need Covid to tell us that. Spitting in public is detestable at all times and there is no elitism in suggesting that. For long, it was argued that Indians are not amenable to discipline of any kind. However, our behaviour, by and large, during lockdown suggests that it is possible for us to follow civic rules and subject ourselves to a code of conduct. Many commentators have advocated that the government, in fact, use this opportunity to bring (or enforce) behaviour change in public places. Without getting into that debate, it may be possible to cautiously predict that a post Covid India might place greater emphasis on public hygiene. The success of campaigns like ‘Swatcha Bharat’ and the reinvention of Surat, post plague many years ago, are pointers to the fact that we can do it. If that happens, it would mean that some good came out of this ‘mahamaari’.

Of course, it may be argued that lot of our debate and discussion on Covid, including this article, is ‘much ado nothing, an exercise in self-indulgence’. Some perspective is called for and early into the pandemic author Sandipan Deb had written a brilliant piece arguing that we were overhyping the danger and going crazy with our response. More recently, an article doping the rounds of social media by one Jaideep Verma suggest the same. If you overlook the political polemics in the second half of his article, he summons an impressive array of statistics to argue that we are being unnecessarily alarmist and panicky in our personal and social responses. Senior Journalist and commentator Shekhar Gupta (SG) suggested much the same in his ‘National Interest’ column last week.  These gentlemen have not rejected the need for normal precautions and prudent measures; it is just that they advocate a long term view. SG writes about a generation of people in India who have seen wars, terrorism, famine and drought and many other seemingly catastrophic events and how we have not merely overcome but emerged stronger after the event. It is also true that contemporary times (and contemporary mores and, arguably, current generation) have less tolerance for ambiguity, less idea of how to live with uncertainty. Perhaps a more relaxed, languid and positive outlook is the need of the hour, a ‘this too shall pass’ philosophy.

That is, possibly, a good way to pause this piece. While the drama is still unfolding, I have tried to examine the possible impact on environmental consciousness, social behaviour, social interaction, civic sense and personal journeys, of this new phenomenon. At the same time,  I remain aware of the need not to be over obsessed with this ‘damn thing’ and get on with life, welcoming the lockdown as an opportunity to enhance personal growth. 

Today, we are at the end of first week of the biggest lockdown in history. While there have been pin pricks plenty, several bad news and the tragedy of migrants, we have, on the whole, reasons to be cautiously, very cautiously, optimistic. For those who feel that lots more could be done, for those who wish to see more concrete action let us note what author Derek Thompson wrote in Atlantic.com, few days ago. He says “In the fog of pandemic, action must come before perfect information….but leaders should be humble, and citizens must be patient, about the fact that no single metric is gospel right now’.

One reason for the optimism is the way the nation has come together. They say a crisis shows much about a country or society. This pandemic has seen several acts of individual courage and institutional resolve. Whether it is development of cheap test kits or flying back our countrymen struck at different places, whether it is acts of charity by the rich and not so rich or the running of community langars we need to applaud several good stories. A long list of people need to be lauded - MEA staff, Air India crew, police, sanitation karmacharis, media, pharmacists, others maintaining essential supplies (from shops to banks to fuel to financial services to textiles), Armed Forces and CAPF and above all the doctors, nurses, paramedics and health workers. This is not a perfunctory hat tip; these positive stories can be the template for a resurgent India. For the country the size of India, with all our argumentative debates and infrastructural constraints, with our heterogeneity and Gini coefficient, these examples could provide the push and momentum needed to come out of this relatively less traumatised. We could become a model for the world in the way we overcome this, as our Foreign Secretary Vijay Gokhale brought out in a thought provoking article last week.

Just as I am finishing this, a typical social media message announces that by keeping people off road Corona has saved more lives than it has taken because India’s normal daily accident rate is higher than Covid hit rate. It’s a grim way to look for a silver lining but this is a good time to search for the good, bad and ugly in our lives. If we can disinfect our way through that, the post Covid world may just be a new beginning.


Srikant Kesnur
31 March 2020 

(The author is a Naval Scholar) 

Thursday, April 2, 2020

Donations and Charity


Musings of a Veteran on Donations and Charity

Whenever there is a disaster or crisis – many “disaster relief” funds are created – and people are exhorted to donate liberally to these funds.

For example – in the ongoing Corona Virus Pandemic (COVID-19) – a number of relief funds have been created at national, state and organizational levels – and there are appeals to contribute generously.

Many individuals and organizations contribute money to these funds.

Some donate quietly – while others make a big show of it – in order to gain publicity.

In a bid to win “Brownie Points” – heads of some organizations publicly announce “one day salary” to be cut from all their employees and donated to these funds – and some do this with full PR/Media hype showing them handing over gigantic cheques.

(Of course – ostensibly – these salary-cut donations are supposed to be “voluntary” – but – one really wonders whether the consent of each and every employee is genuinely taken – or – are pressure tactics used…?)

A question that arises in one’s mind is whether the huge funds collected will be properly utilized for the purpose for which they have been collected…?

Will there be proper audit and accountability – and total transparency – or – is there a possibility of misuse, siphoning off of money – or even scams…?

(In the past – one has read news reports of such instances – in which money collected for a certain cause was siphoned off or misused for something else. Even now – in the days of donations by digital online transfers of money – prospective donors are being warned to be careful of online scams by fraudsters)

One wonders whether it is prudent to contribute to these relief funds where one may have no knowledge of exactly how one’s donation is being utilized…?

Or – is it better to make a targeted specific contribution of money or material…?

For example – you may want to help an institution in your town – or – you may want to help some specific people.

Is it not better to give them money directly – instead of donating to a generic relief fund – where they may give your money elsewhere…?

If you want to give specific items/equipment/relief material – is it not better to give it directly to the persons you want to help…?

Do “relief funds” give specific details of how they have spent the funds collected…?

A donor must have some degree of control on how his donation has been utilized – and confirmatory feedback must be given to him that his money has been appropriately spent on the cause for which it was donated.

Do agencies who collect “relief funds” ask the donor how he would like his donation to be utilized and give him confirmatory feedback that his donation has been well spent…?

Or – are relief funds like a “Black Hole” – and you don’t know where your money goes – whether it is actually used for the purpose it is intended for – or does the money get dissipated into administrative expenses…?

If you donate money for a specific cause – shouldn’t you have an assurance that your donation will be well spent on that specific cause…?

Do administrators of relief funds give complete specific details of how they have spent the donations received along with audited balance sheets for the perusal of donors…?

Do they actually spend all the money collected via donations received on the specific purpose for which the fund was created…?

What happens to surplus money collected…?

Is it returned back to the donors in a pro rata manner – or – is it transferred somewhere else…?

Is there total transparency – or – is it all quite nebulous…?

One is confused about how the “relief fund” system operates.

That is why I feel that it is better to give targeted donations of money/items to people/institutions – instead of contributing to a general “relief” fund – where you will never know how your donation has been spent – or whether it has been spent on the purpose for which you gave it. 

Dear Reader: Please comment and let us know your views.