Mask up! Do not lower guard against Covid

Savitri’s hand invariably moves towards her face to remove the mask as soon as she enters through the gate. I know that she is not comfortable wearing it and does so only because of the fear of getting caught and fined by vigilant cops on the road. She stops midway as she sees me at the gate. As soon as she reaches the door, I rush to ensure she doesn’t touch the knob. I stand unabashedly, blocking her way till she removes her slippers to step into the ones kept for her near the door.

Her arrival in the morning charges me up. I am no more a 70-year-old frail woman with slow reflexes and poor eyesight. Armed with the face mask and spectacles, I follow her, carrying the bottle of sanitiser, 70% alcohol-based as advised by experts, and treat her hands to a lavish sprinkle. I stand guard as alert as a soldier at the Line of Control. I make a deliberate attempt to look intimidating with a frown on the forehead lest she tries to take my instructions lightly.

Not that she is careless or disobedient but I’m just too scared to take any chances since the Covid-19 invasion. I follow her like a shadow from room to room as she is cleaning, knowing well that I make her feel spied upon.

I hate my new avatar of a snoopy old woman but try to justify my actions by putting the blame on a certain country and the despicable virus that has made the world tumble down.

Savitri is our domestic help who my daughter cannot manage without because her demanding job doesn’t leave her with much time to devote to the upkeep of the house.

Savitri has been around with her family for a decade. Because of her diligence and honesty, she has been accepted as a family member.

When the corona panic set in and the exodus of migrant workers took place, many of Savitri’s friends left for their homes in the villages of Uttar Pradesh. Savitri and her husband, who works as a gardener, decided not to go. Their decision had actually been made by my daughter who offered to increase their salary. Certain conditions such as abiding by precautionary measures to ward off coronavirus were laid down and a promise taken from her and her husband that they would not go to work anywhere else besides my daughter’s house.

Savitri continues to live in the house adjoining my daughter’s which belongs to a nonresident Indian, who comes to visit India occasionally. Reflecting on the sad turn of events and the terrible fate some migrants met while walking back to their homes, she is glad that she heeded to my daughter’s advice and stayed put. My daughter is happy that she contributed towards helping a family in need. I only wish that some more Savitris could have been saved the troubles encountered en route to their native places and back.

ARMED WITH A MASK AND SPECTACLES, I FOLLOW HER, CARRYING THE BOTTLE OF SANITISER AND TREAT HER HANDS TO A LAVISH SPRINKLE