Who's Afraid of Corona Virus?

Not me, I tell you. I am a contrary man. If you care to read further, I will tell you why.

To start from the beginning, as children, we had to ensure the following, among a host of things: -

o   Once we step out of the long ‘kolai’, the verandah, of our ancestral house in Kerala, just on to the ‘mittam’, the courtyard, for playing or whatever, leave alone wandering farther into the surrounding farm lands, we had to wash our legs right up to the knees before re-entering the house. A ‘kindy’ (the name of Guindy in Madras originated from this unique vessel) for this sole purpose was kept handy on top of the steps. This washing applied to anyone, walking in from outside, wanting to enter the house: not only we children. The toes, the ankle and the heel were included. A story was told to us, how ‘Sani’ God enters the body through an unwashed heel, and that ensured the heel is never ignored!

o   We also had to wash and scrub the hands, not only as being taught due to the virus but right up to the elbows. Remember under the nails.

o   Face too had to be washed, including the ears, its folds and behind and also the nape. Rubbing and twisting the ears help the lymph, you know.

o   A daily bath was a must, not only in the mornings but also in the evenings before the ‘sandhya namam’. The bath was in the ‘kolam’ (water tank), a place to frolic. In the evenings, time to frolic was limited, though.

o   Bath meant a proper, full scrub all over the body, under the arms, groin, behind the knees et al. Between the toes was not to be forgotten. Sole of the feet and heels were cleaned by scrubbing them over the stones too, not only by soap. Think it over. The dead skins!

o   Nostrils were to be cleaned by blowing hard through them, one by one, blocking the other. This was done certainly while bathing and while washing face if needed. Baba Ramdev would have been happy.

o   After the bath, the ears were cleaned by the corner of the wet ‘thorthu’ (the Kerala towel), which is what we all used being the most appropriate for the climate. It gets washed after every bath, being thin.

o   While brushing teeth, gargling was a must. Gargling was even a game of competition among the children, for the length of time.

o   After every meal, the mouth was washed thoroughly with the forefinger running over the teeth and gum. This practice strengthens the gums, as a spin-off; ask any dentist.

o   We were taught the manners to cover the mouth and turn our heads away and downwards from others whenever a cough or sneeze came up.

o   We were shouted at if we took our faces close to others while speaking. Reasons are obvious, right?

o   Spitting was taboo. Saliva was valuable, they said.

And many more such practices, as you understand by now, without enumeration. The only thing we didn’t do was wear a mask befitting these coronic days. That would have been silly then, unless you were a Jain.

These were all taught to us with demonstrations wherever required by our uncles. Uncles were the most important of the elders in erstwhile Kerala, next to grandparents. They explained the reasons for and necessity of these actions. The elders added mythological stories to emphasise the importance and to put the fear of God into us, in case we sham.

I am sure that these are nothing extra-ordinary and every child is taught more or less the same everywhere. But to me, these became habits.

Decades later, even in Delhi winters, I used to have bath in the evenings too, before my evening tots. (Temple and bar though are on the opposite ends of the spectrum, one needs to be clean and fresh for both). Once a couple visited us and during the small talk over drinks, somehow this bathing habit of mine came up. They were aghast. They thought I had some psychological problem and mentioned as such. I did not ask them about the frequency of their baths. I was afraid to know.

In summers apart from the two baths, at least one pre-lunch body wash got included, somewhere along and now is a habit.

Whenever I go out with my shoes on, on return, I must wash my feet and parts of the body; whatever the climate. There is no dirt on the feet is no excuse.

My inquisitive grandson asked me once about this redundant act. When I said that I do not like a dry body, he came up with the apt word. “You like your body to be hydrated always, eh?”, he said with a sideways glance. He has also seen me drinking plenty of water frequently during the day. And now some experts on the deadly virus say, that the virus will not stick to such a hydrated body! Who knew that! But being a sportsman (ahem!), I knew that staying hydrated is healthy; a titbit I picked up from British Council Library, during college days.

As children, we were discouraged from unnecessary body contacts with others. Hugging, for example. So, in the early days in the Army when I was hugged in ebullient bonhomie by burly Sardars, I cringed. But slowly over the years, I felt that in this aspect, my elders were not so right. Children need hugs and need to hug. But then the teaching is handy, in these covid days, when even a hand-shake is shunned.

Socks and inner wears once worn had to be put for wash. Never use it again unless washed. So much so, as kids, mixing our soiled clothes with the others’ was an irritant, or at least for me, for sure. My brother’s jockeys with my shirt – yuck! But you couldn’t fight with the mother on that, being a middle-class family.

In short, hygiene was an important part of my upbringing. As luck would have it, I married a girl, who was one notch up. Though not to the manor born, she was like me, to the manner born. Dare I, as her husband, touch her comb, towel or soap! If any friendly guest (generally ladies), sat on our bed, she would hide her vexation with difficulty and immediately after the guest left, would put the bed-sheet for wash, never mind that it was a fresh one. (To set the record straight we hardly used bed covers, an overkill for a home). As every man does, if I spread the wet towel on the chair to dry, there was hell to pay! But we men, never learn on that one, do we?

And of course, at the dining table, the rule of “hands and elbows off the table” and all the rest was strictly followed. If a burp escaped me, then I was on the receiving end for a while. My efforts to justify that as due to a satiating meal, put together by her, never cut ice. I think any other wife would have given me a hug for saying that, corona or no.

By now, you must have gathered that my wife, the LOH, is not the hug-pleased type. My bringing up, therefore, stood me in good stead there. Still, imagine having to be cautious to spring a hug on your wife when affection surges unexpectedly and for no reason, at any odd time. Sadly, this era of the bug, has made couples weary of the hug.

Bathroom for her is a sacred place. The way she keeps it, I wonder why there is no small idol of a God and some puja stuff there. Being a husband, I was allowed, but reluctantly I am sure, to use it. Her siblings told me that as children, they used to wait for her to go for bath first, and then fight to enter the bathroom after her. Because once she finishes her bath, the bathroom smelt nice. Those days perfume was not an in-thing. It was talcum powder that kept things smelling nice, bathroom included.

Right now, in my so-tiny a 3BHK, three of us stay, spending time confined in our own rooms, doing our own things. One paints and one writes. The other potters around the sitting room and kitchen apart from the bedroom. So, it happens that we maintain social distancing. By the way, I am against this word, considering physical distancing as more appropriate. Let’s leave that technicality, aside. And we are not the types to stroll around malls and all and hence no outing, is no big deal.

Washing vegetables, fruits and such stuff, and keeping everything, including kitchen slabs, spotless, nobody needs to teach us. I believe, once my daughter-in-law took her mother to task for having dropped some turmeric powder on the kitchen slab and leaving it there, to be cleaned later. To the mother, it was kitchen slab after all, and hence didn’t understand the violence of her daughter, as narrated by my son. That’s my family.

I now have the luxury of owning a laptop, embellished with the following – never mind the bubbles – all procured a long time before corona, the teacher, came a-visiting.

o   A skin cover

o   Keypad cover

o   Screen guard

o   Touchpad skin

o   Palm rest skin

I find this investment worth it, as cleaning the laptop is super easy and keeps it dust-and-spill proof. And I can protect me from my own (sounds like Nityananda?) bacteria and virus; made evident by covident.

If you are still not convinced as to how fastidious I am, ever since I started getting call drivers to drive me around, which is from when corona was unknown, I have kept a small bottle of diluted Dettol in my car. This is to clean my palm, the steering wheel, the gear knob, the door handle, widows’ buttons etc when I personally drive (Admit it. You never thought of doing it yourself, did you?). And I pay a bomb to get the car cleaned inside and outside every day and washed, once a week.

Now, here is the cracker. Read carefully.

Smokers are 80 percent less likely to severely suffer from novel coronavirus than non-smokers, according to a French study which prompted researchers to start trials of giving nicotine patches to COVID-19 patients, front-line workers, and citizens.

The above is a verbatim quote, emphasis and all. Go ahead and research on that. Now, those who tell me to quit smoking can go fry fish. Nicotine kicks the butt of the corona, novel or whatever.

Now if you have taken the pains to read up to here, tell me: why should I be afraid of a silly thing like coronavirus disease, shortened to covid?