It was March 5th. 2020. Our CEO, sent out a message that given COVID-19 has started to create some impact on global health, we should be prepared for a scenario when we are forced to work from home. We had an award function that night , and we all went to a nice party in San Francisco. It was Thursday and it was announced that the next day , would be a "game day" where all of us would work from home just to work out the kinks in case there came an emergency that we would "temporarily" need to work from home "for a few days". Very very thankfully, my parents who wanted to spend some time with their granddaughter narrowly made it to the USA on that very day.
The day was weirdly memorable. The awards function was great with some amazing performances and some deserving award winners. There was an after party but soon we were on our way home. I had a long walk to the BART station, and as I was eager to get home to my parents and daughter, I was passing through a pretty lonely street when a middle-aged woman approached me. I initially felt that she was asking for money, but she asked
"Sir , this is a pretty lonely street, I am waiting for my bus to go the BART station. Do you mind waiting with me?" . Well, I did not admit, but I was frankly scared to walk on the street myself. But the thought of waiting there was a little scary too. The security that my parents were home with my wife and daughter and reaching late would be OK, coupled with just the instinctive reaction, I waited at the bus stop. Any case, I really doubt if I would have turned down such a request unless things were absolutely out-of-hand. A bus arrived 15 minutes later and we took it to the BART station and we both managed to catch out respective trains. In those 15 minutes, I was thinking of a lot of things. Some around just routinely planning my next week, some about calculating how much I was delayed, but more so, being grateful that I was in the position of "helping" rather than "being helped". Also in my mind was the emotion (both positive and negative) of having to work from home for a few weeks.
Would not commuting be good? Of course. Having taken the train for 8-9 months, it was draining. The frantic search for parking in the morning , the hope to get a seat (and not having to give it up in "being a gentleman"), the uphill climb on 2nd street on an empty stomach , plus the scare of COVID due to packed trains (BART was particularly crowded in the rush hours)
But barring that, I had loved coming to the city. The office was almost always full, there was always chatter, the food (and especially the chocolates and desserts ) were nice, our CEO would greet everyone like they were family and in the evening, I would love the pace of the city as people scrambled to get home , reminding me of some of the office trips I did with my Mom and Dad to VT in Bombay (yeah, VT and Bombay ! )
The bus arrived soon, and I was able to escort the lady all the way to a public place on the Bart station where she (and I also) felt relieved and went on with our day. I was feeling happy that I was able to get her and also wasn't too delayed . Now, I was a train ride away from "home" given my parents, wife and daughter were all there.
The next day, we went to a grocery store to "stock up". A store where normally you would not see 3 customers at one time, had a line which stretched 50 yards out of the store. The owner was so slow in billing, that I almost felt like volunteering for some time to relieve everyone of the stress . In the line, a few young Indian kids were behind me (yeah, I am now at an age where I can use that term). One hour into the line, and the guy had managed to get the girl's name and add her on LinkedIn . I was patiently waiting and this thought had brought some humor / positivity to the otherwise looming stress that everyone was anticipating.
There were so many funny things we did. For example, I went to Safeway a day before the county's stay at home order took place. The crowd there was more than I had ever seen. An elderly staffer there told me that the store was going to open as normal tomorrow at 6 am and she assured that everything would be available. But still, no one was willing to wait , no one knew what was coming. I remember buying things like "powdered milk creamers" - just in case things reached a point where a curfew-like atmosphere ensued.
The next few weeks were different. As everyone adopted to the new lifestyle, they were happy than sad . People played games, played music with plates, adopted a "enjoy these days", "respect the healthcare workers" . Soon enough, the plight of those affected economically by this saddened us. The plight of migrants, business owners, restauranters drowned the early cheer . Some images made the world stand up and pay attention to the seriousness behind this.
But still, by and large, everyone expected this to be a temporary phase. A month, two at most and then things will return to normal. After all, Mumbai local trains have never shut down for more than a few days (even during heavy rains) , either ways, we'll get there.
Except that it did not. Numbers started growing, emotions became murkier. Businesses started shutting down. People started struggling with life. Children were losing their active life. Doctors were working overtime . A year down the line , while life has moderately returned to "some" normalcy, it looks like the thought of living life as it was before 2020 seems like a far fetched dream. It almost always feels like, some day , I'll tell Kavya. Yeah, those things, yes, we used to do them before 2020 .
And that brings me to the main thought I wanted to express. That of gratitude. To be, to live, to exist. To have the technology that at least made life livable - imagine it happening in 1990 . Gratitude t have doctors and researches who have been racing to get to a vaccine. To have a smartphone and the internet to make medical co-ordination easier. If someone told me that I would spend an entire year without traveling 40 miles away from my house, I would have laughed like crazy. It someone told me that I would not visit a movie theater for an entire year, or not sit down in a restaurant for an entire year, I would have said "I'll go mad". If I did not meet friends or co-workers for a year, I thought I would have a nervous breakdown.
Yet, here we are. One year down. A realization that when life gives you problems, it gives you enough strength to face them. Of course, it is easy for me to say, but I am sure some people have suffered much more economic hardships and my heart goes out to them.
And for one, this time we are united in the fight. All of you reading it. All 7,854,896,896 of us. Needless to say , this speech is more important in today's time than ever before
