India was fighting an essential war. Then Kerala called liquor essential, Bengal opened sweet shops
The world is currently relying on doctors like never before; tipplers more so.
The discussion over whether the coronavirus came from China’s wet market or originated in some American military camp can wait. At the risk of drawing brickbats, let us also say discussions over whether India is conducting just about enough Covid-19 tests can also hold. None of that is essential because the argumentative Indian is currently faced with a bigger question: What constitutes essential?
They may find it difficult to find their way once drunk, but for now, tipplers in Kerala have had their way in managing to convince Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan to let watering holes sell liquor to those most in need of it. The final arbiter on who really is in need is not a judge, but the doctor. The doctor will decide whether alcohol is an essential for an individual or not.
The world is currently relying on doctors like never before; tipplers more so.
But at the end of it all, the liquor vendor will decide which prescription to trust and which to reject. The final arbiter is thus the guy on the other side of the counter.
People in other states, who find alcohol to be an essential, would have booked the next flight to Kerala if only the flights were flying. For now, flights are grounded. They could have taken the long train journeys too. But the trains have literally been halted in their tracks.
It isn’t just the Communist state that is extending largesse to people, the erstwhile bastion of Communism, West Bengal, too has pulled up the shutters on shops for those with a sweet tooth.
Some are having fish and mutton too, albeit in the virtual world.
Thali in the time of Lockdown ????#21DaysChallenge #21daylockdown #CoronaUpdate #CoronaLockdown #lockdown #SaveFood pic.twitter.com/PjPl9pHnPk
— Kamalesh Chowdhury (@kamalesh_ES) March 28, 2020
Bengalis, who do not buy sweets by kilos, but pay for it per piece, and pay comparatively less than what the rest of the country pays, have every reason to thank Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee. In Kerala, people had started to commit suicide in the absence of liquor; Bengal, on the other hand, faced no such existential crisis. But maybe Banerjee foresaw the plight of her fellow Bengalis without sweets and allowed sweet shops to remain open from 12 noon to 4 pm.
Whoever, outside Kerala and Bengal, said India will fight this together, now feels cheated without the sweetness of sweets and the bitter headiness of liquor, seeing that Bengalis and Keralites are in this (gladly) alone.
This debate over what is essential may smack of frivolous to some and privilege to many, when many in India are walking back hundreds of kilometers, discarded by cities they helped build.
But remember the room to debate itself is a privilege denied in many countries. Also, to many people in this country. Debate is, however, essential (arguments avoidable) for ideas to be refined.
In Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, gutkha is an essential for scores of people. World over, books are an essential for people. The absence of gutkha can lead to uneasiness; the absence of books can throw one into a void. Trying to quit gutkha, not reading books due to other preoccupations, are different issues. But being forced to quit either, even for the time being, is something else. Uttar Pradesh has banned gutkha to avoid the spread of coronavirus, and books are no longer being delivered at your doorstep.
For some, gymming is an essential, more so during periods that can throw you into a mental health crisis. For others, not being able to pray in temples could be unsettling.
It is essential for economies to open up. It is essential for people to mingle – which is avoidable and desirable only temporarily.
But for people as a whole, the only essential right now is survival. That survival is not possible without social distancing. For governments to indulge in populism while the rest of the country battles an essential war, could prove dangerous.