My privilege in times of COVID-19

Times are uncertain, the economy is falling and the world is enveloped with a global pandemic of COVID-19, but if anything is to remain certain, it is the fact that this pandemic has made me come to terms with my privilege more than anything else. Everything around me, from minuscule things to big deals, reek of privilege. This is an idea that I will never be able to overlook. Not to forget, how it is accompanying and shaping me in every aspect of my life. 

Ever since my college adopted the idea of online classes, I have felt nothing but gratitude because these online classes give me a sense of normalcy and routine. But it is not an option available to everyone. Students are expected to be self-isolated from the world in houses that may not be conducive to their physical, mental or emotional well being. They might be facing judgment, abuse, violence and other atrocities that I cannot think about sitting in my room. Students are not always lucky enough to be having decent internet connections, even those who come from well to do families. However, I can easily sail through the classes because of this simple advantage that has been provided to me. It is that of a stable internet connection that allows me not only to attend classes but tend to my other online commitments as well. My family also gives me my space and the affection that one would expect to be getting during such stressful times. 

But there is more. While everyone is in lockdown and cannot step outside of their house, I have a big enough garden where the whole of my family can take leisure walks without the risk of coming in close contact with each other. But the boundary wall that separates my house and that of the campus of PEC and beyond is also the metaphor that divides my 'life in a shell' with that of the outside world. While people are walking hundreds of kilometers in fear and search of 'security', I am comfortable inside that boundary. My walks are for leisure or if I need a time out from my room, but once again I ask myself - How many people can have that luxury?

I don't have to step out of campus to stand in line for hours to get groceries or rush to get medicines because it is delivered to my doorstep at most times. The maximum effort that I have to put in, is to walk about 100 meters to a common point where a bus full of fruits and vegetables comes. When people are patiently waiting in lines to buy their 'fair' share of fruits and vegetables, it is even at that moment a sense of collective privilege hits me. Even in that line one can see a hierarchy build-up of who gets to go first and who gets to go later. Once we move down the hierarchy, nothing much is left for those standing in the last. 

In such tough times, I have the option to look after myself and my mental health. It is not the most ideal of circumstances but I have the resources to make it somewhat better. I can remain connected with my friends and even reconnect with my external family to a great extent. I have multiple ways to amuse myself, whether it is Netflix/ Prime or just Alexa to talk to, or making Dalgona Coffee with my mom. I have the means at my disposal. Honest to God, I would not know what to do with myself or my wandering mind if I did not have these tools at my disposal to keep me busy in a sense. But that is such a first-world thing to say on my behalf. So much so, that with every new series I binge-watch, I can voluntarily choose to forget or even choose to not concern myself with problems that don't affect me directly or in any way, but are way more real and upsetting than reaching the end of the series. 

I have written this post not because I wanted to brag about my privilege but because the guilt has slowly been eating me up. More because there is not much I can do. I think of the didi who used to cook in the house and would call me every time I would be coming back to college just to ask what I wanted to eat and how I will only see her after the lockdown ends. I think of the two vegetable vendors who come to campus and have to still fight for 10-20 rupees because people refuse to stop haggling or curse them for the increase in prices. I can't feel empathy because I know I will never be able to walk even half a mile in their shoes. All I can feel and all that I can offer on my part is sympathy and pray that those people receive the strength to survive through this pandemic.