Covid 18

He retired a full fledged Colonel. Maratha light infantry regiment. He’d fought in the Pakistan war. Liberated Bangladesh and kept India safe. Retired into a flat in Jolly Friends, CHS, Mumbai. Still went for his morning and evening walk everyday. Swagger stick in hand. 

The lack of decorum at society meetings  left him shocked often . Always, for the lack of discipline the parents exerted over their rebellious offspring. And the building secretary’s sorry control over sweeper, mali, watchman, lift man, Pump man, etc. etc. etc. 

His request that the watchman standup when ever a member entered or left was rejected.

“ We can barely get them to stay awake Colonel Saab”

“ If we make him wear a uniform we will have to pay for it and the outgoings will go up.”

Building drivers playing cards while they waited ? He’d court martialed people for less. 

The fourth floor robbery would never have happened if the watchman had a fixed reporting schedule like the Colonel had suggested. 

When he asked for fixed playtimes for the building children some one scratched out the ( retd.) next to his name on his nameplate.  

He’d organized troop movements within enemy lines. Supply lines to keep garrisons. Whole divisions in food , transport and army issue rum.

The fatality rate for Covid 19 was on par with Siachen . If you were 60 plus  then it was like Siachen on a very bad day for Pakistan.

The world was in retreat. Not just  the world, the country, the city. Lockdowns and curfews that were more fitting to war time. The building was a mess. No garbage collection. Water supply erratic thanks to a pump man who had gone back to his village. The garden was messier than the prevailing political scenario. 

The building secretary had stopped answering his intercom. The building watchman vanished after he was held up at knife point and relieved of phone and wallet. 

The Colonel started a roster of duty with the chappies from the second and sixth floor. When the food situation worsened he initiated the food pool with common purchasing .  SOP [ Standard operating procedure ] for any army mess anywhere.

He reassigned the mali’s duties to the fifth floor lady who had a green thumb. Support personnel were the kids, twelve to sixteen, when they were done with the water pumps and the disinfectant wipe down of the lift. He had a weekly review. And a monthly award. For the best soldier nay society member. The secretary came forward to offer his services in whatever deployment the Colonel saw fit. The Colonel put him in charge of the joint fitness program.

Four months later it was over. They’d found a vaccine for Covid. A vaccine and a cure. In the whole pin code of 400050 around Jolly Friends CHS they were the only  ones who had survived unscathed. 

A week later he found a new name plate on his door.

No (Retd.) No scratch marks.

It just said “The Colonel.”

Covid 17

Covid 17

 A group of friends at a party. They’d never had anything more intoxicating than beer. And the one time a gulp of feni mistaken for water.  He’d spat that out though. Here was a friend of a friend of a friend with marijuana. He was offering him a drag. He’d have been a sissy to turn it down. Not in front of everybody. Even the girls hadn’t said no. So he partook that day. And the next and the next. 

Maslows heirachy of needs applies to almost everything. Marijuana to hashish to brown sugar to mainlining heroin was just a logical progression. More heroin for the same high. Lots more for an increased high. 

Until the day he ODed and landed up in the emergency room. Then started his rounds of the rehab centres, support groups, counsellors, psychiatrists, faith healers, ashrams.... . There was always someone on the fringes. Ready to alleviate the unbearable pains of withdrawal with that just one hit. That first step onto the downward slide he was trying so hard to get off. The one step that always lead back to the full blown avalanche. Days of bandhs he always made sure he was buffered. 

The initial lockdown had been easy to field.

The withdrawals this time were the worst ever.His dealers had vanished. Not just them but everyone in the bylane next to Bandra station. Them ,the matka ticket sellers, the hookers, even the beggars. 

Two months into the lockdown. He was thinking that if he could make it thru two months maybe he could make it thru a lifetime. Maybe he had a chance.

Covid 16

Timing was everything. At which point did he put on his mask. The second he put it on everyone always turned towards him. Too early and the cash counter was too far. Too late and his face would be on the CCTV.

He went down on his knees to thank God for the new compulsory Covid mask rule . 

Walked in with a mask he had put on when leaving home. For once absolutely sure that his face would not be captured on the CCTV. Handed the cashier his note demanding all the money in the till. He couldn’t see her reaction thru her mask. He followed her finger to the sign next to the register. 

No Cash.

PayTM only.

Covid 15

They saw each other at the bus stop every day. They soon got talking. They soon got married. They soon had a baby. Baby dropped off at Mummy’s house every morning. They kept going to the bus stop. To get them to the 8.10 Churchgate fast. 

It was blissful. They went to the beach every Sunday morning. Seeing the little one trying to escape the waves cracked them up. An occasional movie, family parties, church feasts and summer nights. When they whispered everything in each others ears.

Along came their second born. Noisy and demanding. She quit working. What with the first one entering kindergarten and his parents needing food sent over everyday. He still caught the 8.10 Churchgate fast.

The Sunday trips to the beach petered out. Slowly eroded by piano practice and Hindi tuitions.

He started joining the boys for their after work drink . He didn’t catch the 8.10 anymore. He had a car. The sea link made it feasible to drive in.

The company upgraded his perks. His drivers allowance allowed him a driver.

Even the occasional movie was history. Fallen to the pressures of board exams.

His promotion came with a secretary. To help him keep track of schedules and meetings. The kids presents were wrapped and in the car before he even remembered their birthdays. The least he could do was take her out to lunch. Then dinner. Then the out of town conference.

He was grateful for Touch ID locking phones. His eldest wondered why he was so touchy when he borrowed the phone for a game. He got him his own soon. It was safer.

They knew his time at the office was what paid for everything . So they never complained.

The trial lockdown was a disaster. Privacy in a two bedroom house with two kids, one maid, one wife and one dog ? No movement beyond the compound gate. He was missing her and she was missing him.

When the lockdown was extended for the third month she quit. An email with her resignation. To him and the HR department.

That evening he helped with the dishes.
Later in the night the wife said “ Now you want me ? ”