If you haven't watched it already, I strongly recommend the movie "Zombieland" - a very interesting and unconventional attempt to make a movie set in a post apocalyptic USA where the only things roaming about the streets are zombies condemned to the depths of hell. The plot centers around protagonists who, by means of experience, have developed their own unique ways to survive, being the only sane people left alive. The concept is nothing new to Hollywood; it comes from an age old formula of film making which has spawned classics like "The Resident Evil" franchise, "I am Legend", "Dawn of the Dead", etc.
But what makes this movie special is the enormous amount of visible cerebral effort that has been invested in so as to come up with interesting instances about how the heroes coped with the situation of survival in a city ravaged by the deadly virus. Alas, this effort estimate could have been easily halved if only the writers were in Pune during the time-frame between June 09 and August 09... when the flying pig took Pune hostage...when the Swine "Flew" over Pune.It is funny how such adversities bring out the inner personalities of people which are hitherto unknown. Suddenly crowd dynamics becomes so prominent, you realize that crowd behaviour is nowhere like behaviour of the individual people who form it.
Like all major events, the invasion occurred with no warning whatsoever. By June, news of the global outbreak was a constant feature in most of the websites, but hey, there was no reason to panic because of no mention of India in any of the reports. An occasional case reported in a corner of the country was nothing to be concerned about. One fine Sunday, during my customary weekend visit to the chat joint close to my apartment, I happened to notice one person in my apartment complex wearing a surgical mask and walking his dog in the complex. "Paranoid fool!" was my initial thought. And then I crossed the apartment gate and reached the road.
It was like I missed some memo distributed to all of Pune. I seemed to be the only one not wearing a mask on the entire road. Suddenly, I felt like a fool for not being paranoid. Should I be scared? Should I scurry back home? Unable to make up my mind, and deciding that prevention is better than cure, I rush to the closest medical store and my heart skipped a beat (many beats to be precise).
The term "Selling like hot cakes" seemed obsolete. I thought the right usage should be changed to "Selling like surgical masks"! The small medical store had over 20 people, each scared to touch any of the panels of the shop, covering their faces with folded kerchiefs, and placing bulk orders for masks on arrival (apparently the last shipment of masks did not last 5 mins after it was opened). All of this demand, in spite of the crowd knowing that surgical masks were as effective as no masks against the H1N1 virus. Everyone wanted to ensure that precautions were taken (no matter how useless they are) and any future infection was to be blamed on fate.
The biggest beneficiaries of this pandemic were the pharmacists and doctors. Business suddenly was thriving like never before. Newspapers now had over 6 pages every day on Swine Flu, at least 2 of which were focused on Pune alone. The vicious cycle of paranoia had started feeding on itself and growing. Pune was officially declared the eye of the storm.
Pune suddenly started looking like a city of surgeons on a break between multiple operations. You hardly saw a person without a mask. Some people considered the mask to be a fashion statement - they let it dangle across their necks like how the fashion conscious folks wear the goggles on their heads rather than their eyes (flaunting the stupid hey-i-am-so-cool-i-do-not-wanna-wear-it-but-i-am-wearing-it-look). The folks started wearing the masks to work as well. Any untoward incident (like a sneeze/cough) was considered taboo, and the proponent of the incident was immediately asked to visit the office doc.
From the city perspective, Pune underwent a drastic transformation. The roads were completely empty - probably for the first time since the Ramayana and Mahabharata era of Doordarshan. Tickets for the latest blockbuster were available, no matter how popular the movie was. Airports were also relatively deserted, considering the various companies providing advisories against travel to Pune. While we read about latest technical innovations used by international airports to screen people who were running temperatures, Pune airport had implemented a voluntary paper based questionnaire to be filled up by the passengers so that any case of the flu can be treated immediately. It was useless, but seemed effective as there were hardly any cases of the passengers owning up to having carried the flu into Pune.
Probably the only zones which were crowded (apart from the medical stores for the masks) were the swine flu testing centers. Paranoid masses went there by the hundreds at the onset of even common cold, unaware that they had a higher chance of getting infected in the queue there rather than their symptoms actually being a positive case.
As a person, all of this emanated a suffocating feeling and I was left feeling claustrophobic. I could not take 3 weeks of this madness - this insanity; I had to break the shackles. Having decided to make a weekend trip to Mumbai on a non-AC bus (to prevent the possibility of inhaling the exhaled air from an infected co-passenger - Yes, I was that paranoid by then), I padded myself like I was going to war - 2 masks over a handkerchief, a bottle of hand sanitizer and an extra mask. I did not plan to remove them till I reached my destination.
On reaching the outskirts of Mumbai, one whiff of fresh air (even through the 2 masks and a kerchief), and I felt I had returned to civilization. It felt good to see people walking on the streets like any other normal day. The attention I received on the roads of Mumbai (because of my mask) was staggering. I would have been the recipient of atleast 2000 stares during my short stroll of about 300 m. I felt like a celebrity who has braved the odds and survived.
When I came back to Pune the next Monday, I was shocked again. The paranoia seemed to have disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared. On enquiring with my friends, I found out that during that particular weekend, Pune was completely closed. What still baffles me is the extent of transformation one weekend can cause. It seemed Pune had handled the issue in the manner the same way we would if our computer crashes - shut it down and restart it!
The media too had reduced the attention on the pandemic, and the normalcy seemed to have returned to the streets. The city, it seemed, became the Phoenix - it rose again after being completely down and out. Today swine flu still may be prevalent in the country, but it had received more than its share of footage and attention. People realize that you are more likely to die of an accident on the road rather than the swine flu. I realized that all of that paranoia may not have been necessary and small doses of common sense would have gone a long way in alleviating "that sinking feeling". It seems true what they say about common sense: It aint as common as it sounds!
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