#004 - A Fog
India is facing a humanitarian crisis, the likes of which it hasn’t seen since Partition
This is not the newsletter I’d intended on writing this week, nor is it something I enjoyed writing in the slightest.
This was supposed to be about something unserious like how podcasts have come to become a meaningful part of my life. But if I’m being honest with myself, this past week has felt like a fog. People I know have lost their lives or are fighting for them this very minute. And I’m finding it hard to concentrate on or think about anything but the second wave of the pandemic that’s taking over India; and the horrific human stories resulting from it. It’s all-consuming.
India is facing a humanitarian crisis, the likes of which it hasn’t seen since Partition.
The number of COVID-19 cases in the country have been exponentially increasing, as have the number of deaths. It’s widely accepted that these numbers are being under reported by at least a factor of two.
The country is running out of oxygen, hospitals don’t have vacant beds, crematoriums are running out of firewood, and burial grounds are running out of space.
All while an election raged on in West Bengal, the Kumbh Mela attracted a “modest” audience of 7 million people, and a tone-deaf cricket tournament continues to be played.
At the current rate, cases and deaths are projected to peak in the third week of May, with close to a million reported cases a day and 10,000 to 12,000 deaths.
Other estimates suggest that we’re already there.
Every time I open Twitter or Instagram, there’s no escaping how dire the situation is at the moment. My feed is filled with tweets and stories of people asking for help in finding a hospital bed, an oxygen tank or life saving medication for their loved ones; and the stories of what these people are going through during this horrific time.
There doesn’t seem to be an end in sight for this second wave, a problem we were warned about, should have seen coming, and could have avoided. And it’s only getting worst. Neither is there an effective plan to get the population vaccinated; our only way out.
I’m infuriated by the position we’ve been put in by the powers that be, but at the same time feel so completely helpless by the scale of the issue. The stories of people in all walks of life, going out of their way to do good, even risking their own lives to help strangers is the only hopeful thing in sight.
On the other end of this spectrum, there are people I know who are oblivious to what is happening across the country, and would rather avoid this information than reckon with it. It’s easy to build that bubble around oneself, especially if you are limited to the walls of your home in a city like Mumbai. Almost too easy. But just because you don’t know something, does not mean it isn’t happening. More than anything else, this moment calls on us as a population to be empathetic.
I’ve spent the past few weeks subsumed in stories and the excellent coverage by local journalists, photographers, and outlets. There has also been deservedly scathing coverage of the “people” in power by international publications, hitting them where it hurts the most, their egos (written curiously by almost exclusively Indian journalists - wink wink, we’ve got a censorship problem).
Here are links to an ever-growing Twitter list of journalists covering India and articles by them.
Follow this Twitter list - Journalists - India
‘We are witnessing a crime against humanity’: Arundhati Roy on India’s Covid catastrophe
"Oxygen is the new currency on India’s morbid new stock exchange ... At the bottom end of the free market, a bribe to sneak a last look at your loved one, bagged and stacked in a hospital mortuary. A surcharge for a priest who agrees to say the final prayers. At the top end, you might need to sell your land and home and use up every last rupee for treatment at a private hospital. Just the deposit alone, before they even agree to admit you, could set your family back a couple of generations."
"As this epic catastrophe plays out on our Modi-aligned Indian television channels, you’ll notice how they all speak in one tutored voice. The “system” has collapsed, they say, again and again. The virus has overwhelmed India’s health care “system”. The system has not collapsed. The “system” barely existed."
'This Is Hell.' Prime Minister Modi's Failure to Lead Is Deepening India's COVID-19 Crisis by Rana Ayyub
How India Went From A Ray Of Hope To A World Record For Most COVID Cases In A Day by Lauren Frayer
Scientists say India government ignored warnings amid coronavirus surge by Devjyot Ghoshal & Krishna Das
Biden Needs to Come to India’s Aid Now by Shruti Rajagopalan
“Just one Indian state — Uttar Pradesh — has nearly as many people as Brazil; Maharashtra, home to the country’s financial capital Mumbai, has nearly twice the population of South Africa … Per capita, Brazil spends about 40 times as much on healthcare as Uttar Pradesh. Brazil has 214 doctors per 100,000 people, compared to Uttar Pradesh’s 39. The northern Indian state has less than half as many hospital beds per capita.”
Counting India’s Covid deaths: Is official data showing the real catastrophe of 2nd wave? by Surabhi Pandey
“In India ... after a person dies, the members of the local task force unit reach there. Now, the critical aspect is ‘comorbidity.’ In India, if a person had a pre-existing disease, chances are that her/his death will not be recorded as a Covid death.”
India Is Counting Thousands Of Daily COVID Deaths. How Many Is It Missing? by Lauren Frayer
“India's deaths in this latest wave would peak around the third week of May ... Unfortunately, given the exponential rise in cases, we may see the daily death toll rise to over 10,000 or even 12,000 a day, before we get to that peak."
India outbreak worsens further, prompting fury at a remaining outpost of normalcy by Sameer Yasir and Shashank Bengali
Twitter takes down tweets from MP, MLA, editor criticising handling of pandemic upon government request by Aroon Deep
‘What is Twitter?’: COVID-19 exposes India’s digital divide by Soumyarendra Barik
I’ll get back to the regularly scheduled programing next week.
Until then, stay safe, help in any way you can, keep those who have lost their loved ones in your thoughts, and pray for those fighting to stay alive.
Talk soon,
Vihan Shah