An open letter for empathy in the time of the novel coronavirus pandemic

Five weeks ago, before the nationwide lockdown began, and a time when India was just beginning to comprehend the idea of social distancing, a South Mumbai resident was returning home after a work trip to the UK. With world advisories and news bulletins all highlighting the growing global coronavirus pandemic, he pre-emptively chose to approach his return with OCD, education and caution, self-quarantining himself as is mandatory today. 

A few days later, when the 34-year-old who runs a sports ticketing company started showing symptoms, his only solace was the responsibility with which he deployed the WHO-recommended measures to ensure the safety of his family. What followed, after he was diagnosed positive, can only be described as a paranoid, reactionary attack on his 60+ father, as he himself recovered in a hospital. The assailants this time were SoBo’s “educated elite”, my neighbours. And yes, this happened to my brother.

Some of you may have read his viral post, maybe you haven’t but I’m sure you’ve seen videos of doctors being pelted with stones and chased away in Indore, and even spat on. With every passing day, the lack of our collective conscience is starting to raise a stink. Indian singer-actor Meiyang Chang was heckled as “Coronavirus” on the streets of Mumbai by passing bikers. In Noida, a man was shot for coughing and in Ahmedabad, COVID-19 patients are being segregated on the basis of religion. In Goa, our favourite holiday destination, hundreds of labourers were found, abandoned in camps without food and basic amenities inside tiny Assagao. The same labourers that construct the villas you vacation in. 

Historically, our irrational fear and hate of the “other”, “unknown” or “no one besides us”, isn’t new. And even though it is inevitable to be scared (most of us find ourselves thinking as we obsessively wash our hands—will I get the virus?), don’t be. Historically, every time humanity has hit a crisis, we have managed to find our way out of it, together, as a society. To kill the virus that is killing our loved ones, we need to do it together—supporting the frontline workers and behind the scene heroes, as well as treating patients with the care and empathy they should receive, even if the said patient isn’t family.

Only in the last few weeks, we’ve not only managed to manifest our hate on to everything Chinese─because this is a ‘Chinese’ virus─but we’ve also progressed to persecute anyone who has come into contact with COVID-19. First come the once beloved neighbours, who are soon labelled as positive patients, and then come their families, followed by doctors and nurses, who are still being evicted from their rented accommodations, across India. Ironic, considering we are the nation that saw the origin of ideas like ahimsa and where principles such as atithi devo bhava were born.

In a time that should have united us—humanity vs a common global enemy, COVID-19—too many of us have opted to display how our hate has morphed into petty paranoia coupled with sheer ignorance, instead of kindness, compassion and empathy. In the case of my family, the neighbours first threatened to have our father arrested and ousted from the building, via Whatsapp. A few days later the news of my brother’s positive status including our postal address was leaked and forwarded faster than a good meme.

Fortunately, plenty of Indians are electing to break the cycle and lead the way. Research does after all suggest, that the best way to overcome feelings of isolation─remember, we’re all in this together─is to grow and strengthen concern, read: empathy, for “others”. I like to look at the latest numbers daily, for a reminder that at it point, if anything is a given, it’s that humanity is in this together barring no religion, diet and shape of eye.

So, start with extending help to those in need... rather than ostracising them. Everyone from small homestays to armies of urban aunties, are pitching in by doing their bit. The former by proceeding profits from their long-stay guests to charities supporting migrant and health workers. The latter by feeding neighbourhood strays. Pay the help so they can continue to feed their families, it's called paid leave, right? Support local NGOs, help cats and dogs get adopted, donate to trustworthy news outlets, community kitchens and even your ancestral village panchayats. Make care packages for those who’ve already lost their jobs, show appreciation to your vegetable, fruit and meat vendors, bank tellers and all our courageous healthcare workers. Pick what you like and just jump in, the time is now. 

Also read: 

Letter from Mumbai: Vogue India editor-in-chief Priya Tanna on finding hope during the global health crisis

Why kindness matters now more than ever before

6 unifying hashtags that will help you stay positive during self-isolation