By M K George SJ
Rome, July 6, 2020: It would be strange to hear that I had a blessed lockdown of solid four months in India from March 25 to July 1 — in all 14 weeks. I witnessed the best of human generosity; so too, the worst of human suffering.
At the end of it all, as I returned to Rome on July 2, gratitude fills me.
First to the blessedness. The first three months of my lockdown was in the XLRI (Xavier Labor Relations Institute), Jamshedpur campus, a gated community in the eastern Indian state of Jharkhand with immense amount of protection and care. Literally, the chirping of birds woke me up in the mornings, in the evenings they kept me company as I strolled on the vast green football ground.
The campus gave us a full kilometer long pathway to stroll, albeit with masks and distancing. The community was so caring. Simple living sharing seemed to dominate the mind and heart of every resident.
The second part, another month of lockdown, was in Delhi, a hotspot of Covid-19. All around the city cases were skyrocketing, hospitals flooded, patients being denied admissions, horrid stories of dead bodies strewn around and disrespected.
Again, I was blessed. The campus of St. Xavier’s School, at the Raj Niwas Marg, with the sprawling green cricket ground and mainas and kites filling the ground. Covid-19 affected even the poor kites. It was sad to watch them eat from the bowls kept by the Jesuits for the birds and squirrels.
The romantic part apart, while in Jamshedpur, twice I accompanied the relief team to the villages around. It was in many ways a pathetic scene. While those who had ration cards got free ration, there were so many who do not have ration cards. But for the mercy of non-governmental organizations and alumni groups like that of XLRI, they would go hungry.
The villagers seemed to go around with their daily routine, but we could make out there is substantially reduced economic activity. They couldn´t carry their daily load of firewood to the market. The wayside toddy shops seemed less active and some of them had even shut down. There was a sense of gloom all over. Those daily wage earners had now to stay home. Worse still, their children, brothers and sisters were returning from other states, often with the virus. There was an air of fear all around. Consoling memories are of an active civil administration in Jamshedpur and the alert civil society organizations.
Meanwhile, the migrants all across the country kept walking, starved, brutally treated and even being killed. One watched in silent horror at the atrocity of the ruling regime which continued to cling thalis, shower flowers and top it all with nationalist and jingoist speeches.
There was the experience of a special train carrying migrant labor from southern India to Jharkhand. The train did not keep time, did not drop them at their places, instead took them to where the administration could ´handle´ them and those who tested positive were taken to hospitals, or rehabilitation centres, often with sub-human facilities. It was so painful to watch it all.
When millions of migrant laborers struggled, the ruling regime looked the other way. They were busy building the temple, arresting the protesters of an abominable legislation, putting FIRs in the name of a handful of activists and journalists who still dared to tell that the ‘emperor is naked,` enacting anti-labor laws, killing the environment and the tribals through new environmental legislations.
Mantras and slogans replaced action plans. The middle and rich classes thrive. The poor languish.
In these unprecedentedly difficult times, the most humane gestures came from ordinary citizens. They shared food, water and compassion with their neighbors. That is where the hope for India lies – The goodness of the ordinary citizen. There was this lone neighbor who dared to get out of the security of her home to serve the needy one.
`To the world, you may be one person, but to one person, you may be the world´. Let hope reign!
(Father M K George is Jesuits’ regional assistant for South Asia, based in Rome.)