We are in a lockdown. It has been ten days or so that I am homebound. The longest I can remember. When I was young once I had to stay home for 21 days. I had contracted chicken pox (the milder and non-fatal form of small pox). That was different. I was sick and was considered risky for the society. Now I know there is a word for it. Quarantine. I was quarantined for three weeks. This time is different. I am perfectly fit. Normal with no trace of any illness, yet I cannot go out. Not just me, my entire family is at home. The whole city, as indeed the entire country is not supposed to go out. They are trying to control the spread of Covid-19 by keeping the entire nation behind shut doors.
Today is a Tuesday. Last Friday night, ten days ago, when I came home from work I knew I would stay at home for two days, that is Saturday and Sunday, and possibly try to visit office on Monday and see what the situation was like. An internal circular from the MD's office had already come informing us to work out the feasibility of working from home. Schools were already closed for a week. And there was a general fear among all against going out on the street.
On Saturday I had planned to take an electrician to our house in Metro Park to fix a faulty line. But we were not too sure if we should actually go. The old electrician with a white stubble on his sunken cheeks, a freelancer who lives just behind our house, came at the appointed time. We were to go together in our car with the aluminium ladder. I told him about the fear and asked him whether it would be prudent to go. He agreed with a dry, disappointed face. I told him, we will go once this panic blows over. He looked at the floor and nodded in agreement. Let me know when you want to go, he said resignedly. I felt sorry for him. I gave him Rs 100 for coming. He seemed a little hesitant. I told him, we will adjust this against your future charges when you actually do the work. The old man seemed happy. It is not always easy to deal with an honest man. I had to convince him quietly that he was being paid for a service.
A couple of evenings before this I was walking to Gariahat through the Dhakuria Lake. There were two younger boys walking in front of me. They were from a poor family. Since our speed was more or less equal I could hear the conversation between the two for some time. One of them seemed to be a Swiggy delivery boy. He was ruing that he didn't go out to work as there weren't many orders to take. They are paid on "per delivery" basis. "It's pointless you see. This other guy at work who always gets more deliveries than me got just two deliveries the whole of yesterday. Why waste your time? I didn't go."
I realised that the virus scare has already hit these daily wage earners. Monisha had stopped using taxis. I am sure lots of other people too. The hawkers in front of our office were mostly gone. In fact even when the lockdown wasn't announced, the road in front of Exide in the evening was eerily empty. People were already avoiding unnecessary travel. The momo shop was closed. There were hardly any buses on the roads. The drive home via HSBC was a breeze.
April 9, 2020
Honestly I cannot remember what day it is today. It could be Wednesday. Or Thursday. The stock market climbed for a few days in succession. Couple of days ago, Mr Chatterjee issued a note to all the employees saying salaries would be cut. He himself has taken a 30 per cent cut followed by directors and ex-com members who are 25 per cent down. I am in the 20 per cent category - DGM to EVP and rest are 15 per cent. Fair enough. We have not been selling anything for the last more than two weeks. We just paid a big dividend to the shareholders. Our daily fixed cost is Rs 5 crore. Outstandings are Rs 900 crore. Huge stockpile of inventory in anticipation of bumper sales of inverter batteries in March due to the oncoming summer season. So the going is already pretty tough.
The Indian government's decision to impose this 3-week long lockdown is being squarely ridiculed by the economists and business people. This might save lives but it will kill livelihood as I understand. We cannot hope to beat the contagion by sitting at home. Lockdown and isolation are luxuries that the middle class can afford. My electrician cannot really afford it.
April 19, 2020
It was a Sunday today. Though in such a complete lockdown the individual days of the week cease to have any special meaning, it was an off day for Monisha ( on working days she works most diligently from home). We decided to go to Sepncer's to try our luck with some purchases of grocery items. The roads were completely empty. I chose to take the inner route through Kabir Road and Raja Basanta Roy Road to go to the Gariahat Spencer's. There were a few cars parked in front of the store. Entry, contrary to normal times, was through the side gate which is usually the exit. People were lined up in a disciplined way at the marked spots with sufficient gaps in between. You could enter only if someone came out. It wasn't as crowded as I thought it might be. We stood in queue for about 15 minutes before we could go in.
We made a purchase of some Rs 4000. Frozen green peas, tea bags, rice, flour etc. We couldn't find the specific biscuit that we wanted. Couldn't find Maggie either. Most of the popular branded food items have vanished from the shelves and have not been replenished.
I remembered reading a page one anchor story yesterday of a migrant labour somewhere in Gurgaon, who sold his mobile phone for Rs 2500, gave the money to his wife and committed suicide leaving four children behind, the youngest of who is a five month old child. He couldn't face the battle of unemployment with so many hungry mouths to feed. And here we were going back home with grocery that is mostly unnecessary for us in the near future. I felt and am still feeling guilty about it. And mind you, I have just been told by my office that my salary has been reduced by Rs 20,000 per month. Except for stopping a few SIPs, resulting in less savings, this won't make much difference to me in the foreseeable future.
I started reading the Discovery of India. Last night I finished reading Nehru's letters to Indira.
April 9, 2020
Honestly I cannot remember what day it is today. It could be Wednesday. Or Thursday. The stock market climbed for a few days in succession. Couple of days ago, Mr Chatterjee issued a note to all the employees saying salaries would be cut. He himself has taken a 30 per cent cut followed by directors and ex-com members who are 25 per cent down. I am in the 20 per cent category - DGM to EVP and rest are 15 per cent. Fair enough. We have not been selling anything for the last more than two weeks. We just paid a big dividend to the shareholders. Our daily fixed cost is Rs 5 crore. Outstandings are Rs 900 crore. Huge stockpile of inventory in anticipation of bumper sales of inverter batteries in March due to the oncoming summer season. So the going is already pretty tough.
The Indian government's decision to impose this 3-week long lockdown is being squarely ridiculed by the economists and business people. This might save lives but it will kill livelihood as I understand. We cannot hope to beat the contagion by sitting at home. Lockdown and isolation are luxuries that the middle class can afford. My electrician cannot really afford it.
April 19, 2020
It was a Sunday today. Though in such a complete lockdown the individual days of the week cease to have any special meaning, it was an off day for Monisha ( on working days she works most diligently from home). We decided to go to Sepncer's to try our luck with some purchases of grocery items. The roads were completely empty. I chose to take the inner route through Kabir Road and Raja Basanta Roy Road to go to the Gariahat Spencer's. There were a few cars parked in front of the store. Entry, contrary to normal times, was through the side gate which is usually the exit. People were lined up in a disciplined way at the marked spots with sufficient gaps in between. You could enter only if someone came out. It wasn't as crowded as I thought it might be. We stood in queue for about 15 minutes before we could go in.
We made a purchase of some Rs 4000. Frozen green peas, tea bags, rice, flour etc. We couldn't find the specific biscuit that we wanted. Couldn't find Maggie either. Most of the popular branded food items have vanished from the shelves and have not been replenished.
I remembered reading a page one anchor story yesterday of a migrant labour somewhere in Gurgaon, who sold his mobile phone for Rs 2500, gave the money to his wife and committed suicide leaving four children behind, the youngest of who is a five month old child. He couldn't face the battle of unemployment with so many hungry mouths to feed. And here we were going back home with grocery that is mostly unnecessary for us in the near future. I felt and am still feeling guilty about it. And mind you, I have just been told by my office that my salary has been reduced by Rs 20,000 per month. Except for stopping a few SIPs, resulting in less savings, this won't make much difference to me in the foreseeable future.
I started reading the Discovery of India. Last night I finished reading Nehru's letters to Indira.
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