May 27, 2021 Commentary from Complacency:

May 27, 2021 Commentary from Complacency: Last year around this time there was a sense of “war.” Fighting the unknown with masks only. The war metaphor was being liberally used. Today the war, it appears, in some places has been won. Winning a war means you vanquish the enemy. The enemy lies slaughtered at your feet as you raise a bloody sword of victory or walk into a shop without masks. There are rules of war, there are metrics of winning and losing that in most cases there is a sense of comfort at the end of the war. Masks off. Order has been returned and reconstruction can begin. And that is why the war metaphor of last year now seems misguided because that same metaphor demands that an end to the war must be declared. There must be a resounding victory and public spectacle of the enemy beaten. Abbottabad. Tikrit. Berlin. The end of a war brings end to anxiety. Is there an end to anxiety today? How gingerly do we take the mask of? Are we sure we can take it off? The lockdown extended till June 15. Will anxiety in Calcutta end after June 15 and the mask come off? Again. Will the backyard barbecue on July 4 declare independence and end of the war? Masks off forever. Will the war come again? Two weeks later. July 18. This confusion stems from the fact that we are not really fighting an enemy as we have been taught to think through the violence that has dominated human history. In this one we are fighting ourselves. We are fighting anxiety. We are fighting uncertainty. We are seeking that glimpse of surety that, yes, it is over. We want someone to bang those utensils from the roof of the community center in my block on June 16 and say we have reached V-day. As I look through the window I see the overcast sky, and the receding storm. I see a sense of order returning after the trees have stopped swinging and the rain is gone. I think that is what we all seek now. The rain is gone. The umbrella for the face can be put away. We need the certainty of life to be as sanguine as the certainty of death. We want the end to anxiety or in Bengali as we say, “atonko.” And that is precisely what will be the weak link. Because this is not a war against a visible enemy that can be decisively beaten. It is a war with fear and the moment we believe we have won over our fears we become vulnerable. It is a horrible way to live. Because we will live. A small percentage will die a painful death, but the rest of us will live with uncertainty. What must we be uncertain of? It is certainly not death, because most people recover. Watching a COVID-19 patient recover after a very difficult three weeks (same as it takes for chicken pox) was difficult. But at no point was I afraid that the person would die, statistically that chance was very low, but I feared of the suffering, of the uncertainty, the sudden demand for resources that were already scarce. This is the fear. The fear there will not be the support. Fear that that there will be no oxygen if needed. Those stories have receded from the media. But the anxiety still remains. And the weapon to fight this war is providing the comfort of the constant reminder that there is someone watching your back. Not the promise of going back to some idealized “normal.” But the battle gear for this war good old TLC – that is what I brought to the battle – just being there. The willingness to answer the unspoken call, “where are you?” Being there before you have to there. It is a different kind of war with different kind of weapons. In a way Lennon asked us to “Imagine” such a World.