Live through this: A month in silence: Scenes from the lockdown

Elsewhere, a mother is worried about the bank balance she saw the last time she checked. With her enforced “furlough” and an even more uncertain future to her husband’s new start-up venture, she is not sure if they will last this month or the next. For now, tea will have to do.

A migrant labourer is sitting on a barren field on the far side of the Yamuna, with two of his friends. They ate yesterday, or maybe the day before. In the searing, dry heat of the Northern Plains, and stuck between the arid tempers of their current employers who told them to leave from urban Delhi, and the transportation that never seems to arrive, they wait for deliverance.

An electrician checks his phone desperately to see if there are some calls from his regular clients, hoping to make some money and keep his daughter’s tuition payment secure. He intends for her to be a chartered accountant like one of his favourite customers, who has promised to help. Till then, they can make do on one meal a day. It will not kill them.

Two teenagers fight for the remote control. One wants to watch his favourite show, while the other has a series finale waiting for him. They complain and the live-in maid takes her cue to go prepare the evening meal. She has not heard from her family since the lockdown began, and for now, she focuses on what her employer will ask her to buy next.

Somewhere in the heart of the megalopolis is a child who is frightened. She has stopped crying for now, but the pain does not recede. The “uncle” she has been left with while her mother is busy cleaning dishes in another town as a “live-in” maid has been coming to her every night. She writhes in pain and disgust at the thought, but for now she has no other choice but to put up with it. A friend has spoken of a nice lady who can help her, if only she will call a particular number. There is only one phone she can use, and she will have to wait for “uncle” to be done before she can use his phone to call the nice lady.

On the internet, a Bollywood sensation cooks poha. With neatly manicured nails and couture that seems out of place in her kitchen, she poses, pan and stick in hand. “Aww” declare netizens. Indeed.

A school principal tries desperately to find his car keys. He must drive over to the school office tomorrow and have a long chat with the correspondent on how they will manage salaries for the next three months as there is no clarity on when fees can be collected. The Government has mandated everything needs to be paid including the monthly PF, and has also decreed that fees may not be collected.

The steady stream of visitors for the morning shift and their incessant problems interspersed with ungodly coughs leaves a bank manager dissipated. He does not want to fall sick doing his job. He does not want to lose his job falling sick.

In a quiet alley near the sea, a musician strings her tanpura and begins her online classical music lesson. At $40 an hour, she is confident she will survive the storm with her following overseas. Little does she know that one of her students just lost his job, while another has had to endure a pay-cut that renders paying for this bi-weekly class impossible. All of them meet on the same note, on Zoom. The Earth winds down. Tomorrow, she thinks, is yet another day.