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2020: The Year That Made Us All Think

SANTOSH DESAI

28.12.2020

Every year, the year-ender column is a bit of a ritual — it feels appropriate to look back and try and discern a pattern that defined the 12 months gone by. Sometimes the pattern really does exist, but on many occasions, it is a bit of a contrivance, this need to attribute meaning to a random period of time. This year, however, stands apart. For it is a year without parallel in recent history, and every individual on the planet has gone through an experience that was as constrictive as it was potentially transformative. 2020 seemed to have a plan for us all, and the emergence of a new variant just as we were getting hopeful about the vaccine makes it possible for us to ascribe to it a malevolence that is yet to play out fully.

This is a year that made us think. Wherever we came from, and whatever our station in life, we were forced to rethink so many ideas that we have taken for granted. It put us in a situation that we were not prepared for and had no physical and psychological equipment for. It was not a situation that could not have been foreseen, for there have been enough warnings, but the reality of going through this experience and that too collectively all across the world has been a deeply disorienting one.

Perhaps, the subject that was most unfamiliar given how hard we try and avoid it is that of death. For death and its prospect surrounded us. The most followed numbers in the year had to do with sickness and death. Daily new cases, daily deaths, the availability of ICU beds, the number of ventilators available. In the early days, Covid was something that happened to other people, but as the year wore on, it tightened its grip around us. People we knew were not only getting infected, but actually dying.

Death is always strange, for by definition we have no experience of it, and often sudden, but in Covid times, the randomness of death was even more striking than usual. The idea that being in a lift or in a shop or by clasping a door handle, one would bear such a dire consequence is a difficult idea to process; this mismatch between a truly trivial oversight and the heaviness of the price that needed to be paid.

The lottery aspect of the pandemic was underlined by the fact that some people who were infected showed no symptoms whatsoever. Most others got through without too much trouble. Only a few either perished or caught the longer-term version of the virus and struggled in the aftermath of their illness.

What made it worse was that people seemed to be dying not just of Covid, but in all sorts of ways. Young, old, healthy and those bursting with fitness all seemed susceptible. Whether it was a particularly aggressive form of cancer or massive heart attacks, the pages of social media seemed to fill up with terrible news. Statistically, it is unlikely that mortality rates went up last year, but it certainly seemed so. Perhaps, staying at home without the distraction of constant movement made us focus on the fragility of lives everywhere.

Time felt different last year. Time in pre-Covid times came neatly packed in little boxes. There was a rigidity about time, an inner insistence about its use that came pre-configured. Mornings meant getting ready, whether for school or work. The day was spent being and looking busy. Time wore appropriate clothes and followed prescribed behaviour. A uniform for school, formal attire for work, correctly informal clothes for work in a new-age workspace, relaxed chilling wear at home, celebratory attire that signaled fun for parties. Ditto for behaviour.

The last few months unglued time. Its structure fell apart, and its form became a shapeless blob. It went blank at the oddest time and overflowed its embankments frequently. We were in control now and a day later found ourselves overwhelmed. Life swirled all around us in the form of children’s wails and the incessant barking of dogs. Chores alternated with Zoom calls as life struggled to find a new rhythm. Thanks to the pandemic, we have experienced freedom from the structure of time as well as experienced its crushing weight.

Along with time came the question of priorities. If we spent most of this year stuck in a confined space, we also rediscovered the meaning of family ties in all their fullness. We were able to look at work from a whole new lens. Stripped of its accompanying paraphernalia, work took on a different colour. We could ask if this was the life we wanted to lead, and whether this was the place we needed to tie ourselves down to. A smaller town, perhaps, where commutes did not suck dry the ability and interest to do something more meaningful in life?

In some ways, this period was also a forced return to pre-liberalisation days where we made do with little. The experience of having to make do with what we had, particularly in the early days of the pandemic, underlined the fact that we consume more out of habit than out of need. Wardrobes felt bloated, cosmetic shelves looked ridiculously well-stocked, and cars and bikes sat by idly. If there was a loss, it was that of human contact. We missed being around people, interacting with those friends, making small talk with acquaintances and brushing shoulders with strangers in public spaces.

Will this experience make us re-evaluate how we lead our lives once we regain full control? Or will we slip back into familiar rhythms and comfortable habits because it is so easy to do so? Will we at least be more reflective versions of our old selves as we apply the wisdom that we have gained from this experience to new contexts? It all depends on whether 2021has a somewhat more optimistic script for us.

santosh365@gmail.com

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