Cover up

Mask-wearing has gone from being a socially responsible habit to becoming a class issue

I was at a wedding reception last fortnight when I first noticed it. The guests were pairing their best finery with their most dazzling smiles. But the staff that was serving them in uniform were all wearing masks. From the valets who were helping to park cars to the waiters who were passing around the snacks; from the chefs who were slaving over hot stoves in the open kitchens to the bartenders mixing cocktails with a flourish: every single person in a service role was wearing a mask. And everyone who was being served was barefaced. 

That’s when it struck me: mask wearing has gone from being a socially responsible habit to becoming a class issue. It’s only the serving classes who are expected to follow Covid protocols while the rest of us merrily contaminate the air with all our germs. 

Now that Covid seems to be on its way out with a negligible number of cases being reported every month, the upper and middle classes have decided to ditch their masks. But the same freedom has not been granted to those who serve them, both within the home and without. These people are still expected to mask in the presence of their supposed betters, offering them an illusory sense of safety from the virus. 

Take a look around when you are next on the road. It will be easy to tell the cars that are being driven by chauffeurs. Not because the drivers are all wearing peaked caps but because they are the ones who will be masked while the sahib and memsahib in the back seat stay cheerfully barefaced. The chances are that when you visit a friend’s home, the ‘guard’ manning the main gate will be masked. In a restaurant, the diners will not be masked (even when they are not eating and drinking) but all the waiters and waitresses will be in masks. On aeroplanes, the passengers will be unmasked — ignoring the announcements asking them to keep face coverings on at all times — while the flight attendants will have surgical or N 95 masks on. Even in hospitals — where, surely, mask-wearing should be mandatory — the patients tend to eschew masks while the staff attending to them stay masked. 

I am not sure when this divide became the norm. Or even why it became the norm. But I can hazard a few guesses. 

First up, of course, is the fact that we are an inherently classist society. And that if any sacrifices need to be made on the altar of public health and safety, then we think it only right that these sacrifices are made by those who are paid to serve us. 

Then, there is our tendency to see those who serve us as essentially sub-human. We don’t see staff as human beings in their own right but as ciphers whose only purpose in life is to make our lives easier. So, we think nothing of asking them to stay masked in all circumstances even as we breathe free. 

And finally, there’s the most important factor of all. We ask those who are below us in the food chain to keep their masks on for one simple reason: because we can. And with that, we are the ones who are unmasked in more ways than one. 

One year of Covid

Here’s what has kept me going these past 12 months

 

As I sit down to write this column, it is exactly one year since we first went into a Covid-induced lockdown. As anniversaries go, this one is pretty grim, mostly because the virus is still alive and well and kicking our ass. After a brief period during which cases went down – inducing hope and optimism among us all – the counts are going up every day, thanks to the various variants that are spreading rapidly among the population. 

 

But even as we struggle to see light at the end of this particular tunnel, I think it makes sense to pause and give thanks to what sustained us as we lived through a pandemic. So, here, in no particular order of importance, is a list of all that I am thankful for this past year.

 

·       My book project: If I hadn’t had a writing project to focus on, I think the enforced isolation of the past year would have driven me mad. But, as luck would have it, I was halfway through the sequel to my political thriller, Race Course Road, when Covid struck. So, I could use the time that I was sequestered at home to concentrate on finishing my book. And that’s exactly what I did, spending every afternoon hunched over my laptop, furiously writing and revising. I am happy to report that I am all done now, and my new novel will be out by the end of the year – by when, with luck, Covid will have run its course, and I can actually promote it in person rather than on Zoom. Well, here’s hoping, anyway.

 

·       My Kindle: If writing sustained one part of me, reading kept the other half stimulated. And I couldn’t have done that without my trusty Kindle during those dark months when bookshops were shut and the only way to access new releases was to download them on an e-reader. Once I was done with new titles, I fell back on my comfort reads, scouring for old titles that had kept me entertained during my school and college days. That meant everything from Enid Blyton’s Mallory Towers series (yes, really!) to some of my favourite Georgette Heyers to such classics as Nora Ephron’s Heartburn.

 

·       Mini-breaks: After many months spent in lockdown, it felt like a special treat to head out for a mini-break, even if it was to destinations that were a few hours’ drive away. Even cities like Jaipur and Agra that we tend to take for granted in normal times, took on an exotic hue in my travel-starved eyes, as we ventured forth from home after being cooped up for what felt like forever. And it didn’t seem to matter that we spent our days within the confines of our hotel; it still felt like a lucky escape to an alternate universe so that we could return refreshed to our normal, humdrum lives.

 

·       Walks in the parks: Mini-breaks are well and good, but a girl also needs something to break the tedium of the normal workday. And if that girl is lucky enough to live in Delhi, then a walk in the park is just the ticket. Over the last few months, I have marked the end of my writing time by slipping on my sneakers, pulling on my mask and heading out to one of the many parks that litter Delhi. There are about four on my list and I alternate my walks between them, varying my route every day so that I have fresh vistas to gaze on, varied flowers to smell, and different monuments to marvel at. Without that blast of fresh air to blow my workday woes away, I don’t think I could have coped. 

 

There was much else that sustained me, of course. The companionship of my husband; the love and embrace of family; the supportiveness of friends. But most of all, it was the hope that we would all see better days soon.   

 

Hair today, gone tomorrow

Vanity belongs in a pre-Covid world – there’s no place for it alongside the Coronavirus

You know what I miss most about my pre-Coronavirus life? No, it’s not going on holiday, or eating out in restaurants (though, of course, I long to do that too). 

What I miss the most is visiting my hairdresser.

In the days before Covid struck, I would visit my neighbourhood salon at least once a week. Sometimes it was to get a trim, at other times a root touch-up, at others it was to put in a few highlights, or even sneak in a quick manicure or pedicure. Most often, though, I headed there to get a shampoo and blowout – my one indulgence, as I frequently told myself, as I tried to justify how much I was spending – leaving with an extra bounce to both my hair and my step.

Nothing feels quite as luxurious as having somebody else wash and condition your hair, and have a professional blow dry it, leaving you with a sleek style that no amount of mussing and fussing can spoil. And over the years, I must confess I got addicted to this luxury.

And then came the lockdown. Now, not only did I have to wash and blowdry my own hair, I also had to colour it every month and trim my fringe every few weeks. After six months of this, you would think that I have become a dab hand at this sort of thing. 

And you would be entirely wrong.

My hair is now an overgrown mess, because I am too scared to even venture out for a trim. Having experimented with various shades of dye over the months, my head currently sports at least three different shades of brown (and that’s not counting the auburn highlights that still linger on a few strands). And my fringe is now growing out messily, after I decided to give up on that particular battle, and let nature take its course.

Does this bother me every time I catch sight of myself in the mirror?

Well, truth be told, it bothers me less and less with every passing week. And that may well be because I have finally come to terms with my new reality.

And that new reality is that vanity is so last year. Or, shall we say, so pre-pandemic.

Now, as we try to negotiate a world in which we have to co-exist with a virus that could easily kill us, it seems silly, even downright frivolous, to worry about how we look. And in any case, how do appearances even matter in a world in which everyone has to wear masks when they venture out into the world?

Yes, I know there are those pesky zoom calls that are the plague of our existence. And you do have to comb your hair and slap on some make-up for them so that people don’t realize how feral you have become. (Though if you frame yourself just right, you still don’t need to wear trousers for these video encounters.)

But for the rest of the time, you can slob around in the house. You can stay in your pyjamas all day if you like, or just wear a tatty T-shirt with shorts. You don’t need to bother with lipstick (though a dash of eyeliner may be a good idea if you are venturing out in a mask and want to look pulled-together). You don’t even need to brush out your hair; just pull it into a ponytail or a messy bun.

In one sense, it’s a relief to not to obsess about how you look, or even worry about what other people make of your appearance.

And yet, whenever I think of what I would do if the virus vanished tomorrow – maybe thanks to that ‘miracle’ that Donald Trump keeps promising us – the first thing I can think of is a visit to my hair salon. I dream of settling down on a squishy armchair, trashy glossy magazine in my lap, as my hair is cut, coloured, coddled and polished to a high gloss.

So, I guess there is some vanity left in me, after all. It’s just lying in wait for when normal services can be resumed. Let’s hope that’s soon.

Going stir crazy?

Here’s a taste of some of the things that are getting me through quarantine

As I sit down to write this column, I have spent five weeks in quarantine. The first two were down to being exposed to a person who was later diagnosed with Covid-19. The next three were part of the national lockdown we are all part of. And it now looks as if we will spend the next two weeks (at least) as well cooped up in our homes.

I don’t need to tell you that this is not easy. All of you must be coping with your own unique difficulties. Some may be finding it hard to work out of home, while juggling the kids’ online classes and household chores. Those who live alone will be suffering the ill effects of social isolation. And there will be those who will be struggling to get even essential supplies in.

I have written in earlier columns about how I was coping with quarantine and what I was most looking forward to when it was finally lifted. But I think this is the time to tell you what are the little joys that are actually helping me get through this period. And yes, despite all my anxiety and angst, there are many.

Here is just a random sample:

• Cooking: I have always enjoyed pottering around in the kitchen, playing around with ingredients, and coming up with dishes that owe nothing to recipe books. But that was an occasional pleasure. These days, though, I am cooking both lunch and dinner, and I must admit that this task is keeping me sane. Partly, it is that I am forced to innovate, because so many ingredients are simply not available, so that makes me stay engaged. But mostly, I think it is because the instinct to feed those you love (and that includes your own self) is the one thing that keeps us going in difficult times. So, I spend every afternoon and evening in the kitchen, making no more than one dish per meal-time – this is not the time to show off – trying to vary the cuisines as much as possible, and making just a little bit extra to bung into the freezer in case of emergency. 

• Sitting out in my balcony: This was always the one area of the house I never visited. For one thing, it gets the full force of the sun all day and can get unbearably hot. And for another, it is so narrow that it can just about accommodate one chair, with no scope of placing even a stool in front of it. But now that this is my only source of fresh air, I have discovered the virtues of this tiny space. For starters, it has a massive Alstonia tree (what we call Saptaparni in India) growing by its side, which has become home to all the neighbourhood birds. Then, there is the fact that the curry patta tree that my housekeeper has nourished to an amazing size, is flowering and the air in the entire balcony is scented with its amazing perfume. Also, when the sun finally goes down, there is a nice breeze that sets up, blowing away the cobwebs of mind as I sip my of coffee (okay, who am I kidding? A gin and tonic, more likely!), balancing the glass delicately on the ledge.

• Comfort reading: I started quarantine off with the best of intentions. I was going to read every worthy tome that was lining my bookshelves, restricting myself to serious reads now that I had the space and time to concentrate on them. But that didn’t last long. A fortnight in and I was done with expanding my mind; now all I wanted was to comfort my soul. And there is no better way of doing that than revisiting your favourite authors, who have kept you entertained for years. So I dipped into a bit of Agatha Christie, burrowed into a few titles by P.D. James, and am now planning to re-read the entire oeuvre of Elizabeth George. Given that she has written some twenty books in the Inspector Lynley series, that should see me through quarantine.

• Scent: I was never one for spraying perfume on myself every day, even during those halcyon days when we could step out of the house. But now that I am housebound, I find myself reaching for the perfume bottle the moment I am out of the shower and spritzing myself with the pick of the day – usually a soothing floral scent. Somehow, in a way that is hard to explain, smelling good serves as a pick-me-up and makes me feel more equipped to face the day. Similarly, when I am getting into my nightclothes, I spray some lavender eau de toilette on myself. And so far at least, it’s helping me sleep well.  

There’s a lot else, of course. There’s my cross-trainer, which has never got so much attention from me and is not quite sure what to do with it. There are the video calls with my girlfriends as we commiserate with each other on our greying roots and unkempt eyebrows. And then, there’s Insta, where we post our cooking videos so that we can share recipes virtually. 

In fact, a couple of days back I even went ‘live’ on Insta, to give my book recommendations to those who tuned it. And I had so much fun doing it, that it’s going on the list of things that will help me get through this. So, stay tuned. I’m going to pop up on your screens soon, wittering on about something or other. Don’t say you weren’t warned!

Post-Corona life

When things go back to normal – and they will – this is what I will do first

As I sit down to write this column, I have already been housebound for 14 days after having come into contact with someone who was later diagnosed with Covid-19. And just when I was ready to rejoin the world, the Prime Minister announced a three-week, nation-wide lockdown, which means I will now end up being quarantined for five weeks in all.

I shouldn’t complain, though. With a well-stocked kitchen, plenty of books to read, and three streaming services at the ready, I am more prepared than most to ride out a lockdown. Also there’s the fact – as I wrote last time – that as someone who works out of home, I am more used than others to the solitary life. But even so, staying cooped up at home, with just the occasional visit to my teeny-tiny balcony to catch a whiff of fresh air, is beginning to make me stir-crazy. Not to mention, a little bit bonkers – I even caught myself talking to my plants the day before yesterday. (Though psychiatrists say that talking to your plants is fine; it’s when they start talking back to you that you should ask for help.)

That said, I am trying to keep to my normal routine as much as possible. I still get up at my usual time, have breakfast, make sure to shower, dress and even slap on some make-up before I sit down to work on my book. I stride up and down the house in lieu of my usual walk in the park and try to ensure that I get my 10,000 steps in. I mark mid-day by having lunch. I celebrate the end of my workday by having a last cup of coffee. I cook dinner every evening, set the table, and eat a proper dinner with my husband. Sometimes to cheer ourselves up, we even open a nice bottle of wine to accompany our home-cooked meal. 

I try not to disappear down the hole of social media, restricting myself to checking Twitter every couple of hours. I don’t watch TV during the daytime. And I turn off Netflix/Amazon/Hotstar at a reasonable hour at night even if I am not sleepy. I find it’s much better to wind down by reading in bed rather than watching yet another episode of that addictive show. 

But even though life goes on, albeit in an altered form, I find myself acutely missing many things that I took entirely for granted in pre-Coronavirus times. And I can’t wait for this period of quarantine to be over, so that I can go back to doing all the things that mark normality for me. 

Here’s just a small sampler:

• Going for a walk: I wouldn’t have thought that I would miss this quite so much, given that in normal times, I often had to push myself to get my sneakers on and out of the door. But now that that option is no longer available to me, I find myself longing for the spring-flowers laden ambience of Lodi Garden, where the sound of birdsong accompanies me as I walk down the tree-lined pathways. And I am sure that when I am back at my favourite walking spot – even though the weather will have heated up by then – I will appreciate it even more for having experienced its absence.

• Having lunch with my friends: Hanging out with my girlfriends, whether over lunch, a coffee, or even a drink, was something that I always took for granted. In retrospect, though, those girlie lunches or girls nights out were a lifesaver for me – and I suspect, for them as well. It gave us a chance to vent if we were unhappy, to exult if things were going well, and to share if we were troubled about something. Yes, I know we can always use Zoom for a virtual hang-out, but sorry to say, it’s nowhere as nice as the real thing.

• Dropping in on my sister: I don’t get a chance to do that very often at the best of times, but this may mark the longest period that I have not had a chance to see her in person – video chats are all very well, but there is no substitute for in-person contact. So, as soon as this nightmare is over, I am headed over, with a hotpack containing the channa-bhaturas we love so much, for some much needed Didi-time.

• Eating a meal in a restaurant alone: Most people don’t get it, but I actually enjoy going out to eat on my own. Whenever my writing is not going well, I head out to one of my regular haunts, with just a good book for company. I eat a simple meal, flush my mind out completely, and come back to work, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. I can’t wait to do that once more.

• Going to the beach: It’s a funny thing. Until now, whenever I have been on a beachside vacation, I have always ended up complaining about what the humidity does to my hair (you really don’t want to know). And yet, now that travel seems an impossibility, it is the beach that I find myself longing for: the smell of salt water; the smoothness of the sand between my toes; the cooling waves lapping against my feet. Even the wild, frizzy tangle that is my hair at the beachside will be well worth it.

Life in the time of Corona

Some handy tips to deal with the virus (but before that, wash your hands!)

As I sit down to write this column, I have a completely empty diary staring at me, with no upcoming trips or events listed. Just a week ago, my schedule looked very different, with both domestic and international travel scheduled through the month. But as the coronavirus scare got scarier by the day, I cancelled two trips to Mumbai as a measure of abundant caution. And today, as the Indian government banned all non-essential travel by Indians abroad (with the very real risk of quarantine when we get back), I cancelled a trip to Singapore scheduled for the end of March.

And even though I show no symptoms of the disease (so far!) I have decided to self-isolate at home as well. And that’s not just because I don’t want to catch an infection as I go about my normal day. It’s also due to the fact that the last flight I took to Mumbai featured an air-hostess who coughed dramatically throughout the two-hour journey even as she did the meal service (yes, I kid you not!). I quickly donned my mask for the duration of the flight – though the passengers around me did not seem unduly concerned – but there is always the chance that the damage may have already been done.

So, for the past week I have been staying in for the most part, declining events and avoiding crowds. And even though I risk coming off as rude, I have been refusing to shake hands with the smattering of people I do meet, offering a Namaste instead (it came as something of a relief when I saw Prince Charles and President Macron of France doing exactly the same thing).

It helps that as far as self-isolation goes, I have some experience in the matter. For the past several years, I have been working out of home, and often go days without seeing anyone other than my husband and the household help. So unlike others who may be freaked out by the prospect of isolation, I have already made my peace with it. And it is on that basis, that I offer the following tips to cope with being home alone.

• First, set up a routine. When you are just schlepping around at home, the temptation to lounge around all day in your pyjamas, without even having a shower or shave, is hard to resist. But resist it you must. It is crucial to keep up appearances, even if there is no one around to watch. So, make sure that you are bathed and dressed (and by that I don’t mean another pair of pyjamas) as you prepare to face the day. Don’t skip lunch and grab a bag of chips instead. Have a proper meal at midday, even if it is just you sitting at the table. Stop working in the evening, to give yourself some proper downtime. And don’t eat dinner slumped in front of the television. Set the table and eat with proper crockery and cutlery laid out. It is these civilizing touches that make your daily routine; and you must stick with them no matter what.

• Yes, this is the best time to binge on those shows that you haven’t had the time to watch given your hectic schedule. But TV shows – especially those that have an addictive element – have the tendency to take over your life to the exclusion of all else. So, it is imperative that you set limits on yourself. Speaking for myself, I have an iron rule in my household. The TV does not come on before 8 pm. That is the only way I can discipline myself to work during the day. Because once you descend into the pit of daytime TV-viewing, there is no coming back.

• A far better use of your time would be to catch up on all the books you’ve been meaning to read (but have been piling on your bedside table because of lack of time). Now that you are at home with time on your hands and minimal distractions, tackle all the books that require your undivided attention. Choose books with important themes if you are a non-fiction fan. Pick sweeping sagas if you prefer fiction. This is the best time to delve into three or four-part series like Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan quartet, for instance (I promise you will love it).

• Just because you are in isolation does not mean that you have to feel isolated. Use social media to stay in touch with the world (though Instagram is a more feel-good place than Twitter; and Pinterest much more fun than Facebook). Facetime or video call your friends and family rather than just phone; seeing their faces will make for a stronger connection than merely hearing their voices.

• This is the time to indulge your hobbies, or even develop new ones. Dabble with new recipes in the kitchen. Learn how to knit (it’s supposed to help reduce stress, so that’s a bonus). Or maybe spend time researching the destinations you would like to visit when this nightmare is over. I have already shortlisted two that I have never been to – Greece and Croatia – and I am having a tremendous time planning itineraries in my head, while I wait for the real thing to materialize. Let’s hope real life lives up to my imagination. 

And now, if you will excuse me, I am off to wash my hands – yes, again!