During testing times like the current pandemic, it is uplifting to see the face of altruism not seen in normal times. Our mood is elevated when we witness extraordinary acts of kindness, and our morale is boosted when we hear or read about the daily acts of self-sacrifice and death-defying courage by fellow humans.
A few days ago, the front-page headline in this paper reassured me. It said: “The best in us endures...” and the report was about Hindus serving iftar to Muslim neighbours. It was sheer balm for our broken spirits after the recent incidents of communal conflict. The long, hard weeks of the lockdown had indeed brought out the best in many. I only wish that this would spill over and become an intrinsic part of us. I have also seen the best in schoolteachers: their enthusiasm has been exhilarating. They stretched themselves to navigate and settle down in an alien world of virtual classrooms. Teachers of the primary department put their heads together (‘remotely’) to come up with attractive ideas which would translate into genuine learning. Parents, in turn, mailed us amazing videos of their children collectively showcasing their different ‘lockdown activities’. They thanked the teachers for their efforts to keep the learning process alive. Teachers of senior classes reported the overwhelming response to their online lessons although I know that the novelty will eventually wear off. In all this, we constantly worry about families who are struggling to work from home with just one computer or trying to make do with smartphones. The coronavirus has certainly succeeded in deepening the already disturbing divide between the ‘privileged’ and the ‘under-resourced’.
Most parents are generally appreciative of the efforts of the school to engage their children in the learning process during this difficult time. One or two, however, after having carefully calculated the hours and minutes of teaching time delivered, demanded that teachers should carry on teaching without a break since students would not be leaving town this summer. In this context, I feel that each ‘party’ concerned, should show some empathy towards the other. I believe that some schools insist on students attending their virtual classes in uniform. The intention is understandable — that children would absorb the simulated classroom atmosphere better if they were in their school uniform. But schools should spare a thought for harried parents who are driven up the wall, washing and ironing uniforms in the absence of domestic help in addition to attending to their own online office work and getting other household chores done. On the other hand, schools may want to play it safe. Think of the insouciant advocate who appeared before the judge, in his vest. The disgusted judge terminated the online session at once.
I don’t think some of us would have managed to remain sane if the institutions around the world hadn’t opened their doors to the public, free of cost. Many have been feasting on the choicest music recitals, theatre shows and dances. Some have been listening to video lectures and signing up for courses of their choice, offered by the best of universities. Museums and libraries have made it possible for people to view their awesome collections. A couple of my friends, both senior academics, sent me video recordings of their lectures. I realized how sensitively they were dealing with tertiary students. Most people have been reaching out to long-lost friends and hitherto neglected relatives. Someone sent me a witty ‘corona message’ which said, “United we fall/ Divided we stand”. Reflecting on this, I realize that, ironically, strict ‘social distancing’ has made us come together in a strange way. Whenever we feel sorry for ourselves, we are reminded that this deadly virus has spared nobody in this world. Consequently, we feel warmer towards our fellow human beings. At a recent video conference, two of my male colleagues had broad smiles. One of them exclaimed, “It is so nice to see you Madam — we are seeing you after such a long time!” I was speechless for a moment. But this is what the lockdown has done to us; we find ourselves yearning for the ordinary.
Now we come to the dark aspects of lockdown life. Recently I happened to see images of a post-lockdown school in Hangzhou, China. The most depressing one was that of children eating in their lunchroom — a lone child at each table. When will we be able to lead a normal school life again? Crowded corridors, shouts of children in the playground or early morning football or basketball practice will not reappear in a hurry. Spectres rose before me, of masked children and teachers, ‘safe’ sanitized rooms, frequent hand-washing, staggered arrivals and dispersals, and everywhere children positioned unnaturally apart. Feeling a wave of panic, I began inhaling deep breaths of the lockdown-cleaned Calcutta air and immediately felt better.
The best does endure in us but alas, so does the worst. This I realized when I watched a television programme where an ex-student who works with the United Nations was interviewed on the subject of “Domestic Violence in the Lockdown”. The increased numbers of reported wife beatings and child abuse were staggering. I hadn’t heard about the chilling ‘shadow pandemic’ till then. “Stay at home, stay safe” didn’t sound reassuring anymore.
Those of us who work with children cannot afford to remain dispirited for long. It is only because we are human that we give in to occasional mood swings. The glorious, evening sky, the sun bird pecking at a scarlet hibiscus outside my study window or a call from a dear friend will lighten my mood again.