Well, it’s Groundhog day… again, says Phil Connors, Bill Murray’s character in the classic 1993 film Groundhog Day. To those of you unfamiliar with the film’s plot, Phil relives February 2nd (Groundhog Day) over and over, each day starting the same way irrespective of the incidents of the previous instances of the same day.

Almost 30 years later, Indians seem to have a similar experience. After all the struggles, lockdowns, curfews, deaths, and tragedies in 2020, 2021 seems to be an action replay. It is as if someone pressed a reset button after everything we went through exactly a year ago (if you are getting a sense of déjà vu when receiving WhatsApp forwards, chances are the same messages were circulated last year too). If anything, the situation is even more dire now. With more cases (and deaths) every day, a shortage of oxygen, vaccines, and medicines, it is a terrifying time to be living in. Now, there are several issues that make me (and several others) angry – the black marketers exploiting those in need by charging exorbitant prices, the careless folks flouting safety norms and posing a threat to the larger society… However, this article is not about any of those topics. Understandably, even if these things make my blood boil, there is little I can do to change them. So instead, this article is about something individuals like you and I can do to have an impact.

But first, let me go back a few days and tell you what triggered me to write this article. As many of you would know already, the ceremony for the 93rd Academy Awards was held on April 25th this year. Being a movie buff, I too eagerly followed the event online, having a mini celebration whenever a favourite of mine won. This effect lasted five days, after which I read this article in the newspaper. For the first time, I felt somewhat guilty for devoting attention to an awards ceremony that I have otherwise routinely watched or followed year after year in the recent past. While I strongly recommend you to check out the link later, here is an extract for now:

The film we’re speeding through is more reality TV, without the glamour of fake tears dripping off fake eyelashes. The unlikely cast won’t grace a red carpet, or even be allowed near it. A man in a sweat-stained shirt who keeps nodding off. A woman with cracked soles and nervous eyes. A girl who sleeps with her shoes on.
The exhausted hero is the autorickshaw driver who ferries passengers free in any emergency to the nearest hospital. He’s stayed awake and on the road for a week or longer, and has saved a dozen lives at least, not that he counted.
The female lead is the domestic help who walks five miles daily to plead to work all day in an apartment that keeps accusing her of carrying the virus in from her slum. She still lands up because keeping her family alive has more to do with putting food on the table than any microscopic threat.
The supporting actor is a nurse who does back-to-back shifts and sleeps in her uniform and shoes in case she gets called back to an emergency.

 Jane De Suza, “This film we live in”, The Hindu dated April 30, 2021

Over the past 15 months or so, we have seen the best and worst of human behaviour. The majority of us have commended the efforts of some, and criticised (often too quickly) the actions of many others. But the question I ask is this: how many of you have turned the lens on yourself? How many of your actions during the crisis were commendable? How many actions were potentially harmful to others, irrespective of whether you realised it at the time?

Here is a biting article elaborating how some Indians breached safety protocols when things were improving, possibly leading to what we are experiencing now; we only have ourselves to blame, as the figure above illustrates. I think it’s fair to say that we have become selfish in one way or the other as the pandemic progressed. We have put our safety first, considered our needs ahead of our neighbour’s, wondered if our birthday celebrations would be virtual again, hoped if we would get additional allowance from our employer, and so on. How many times have we agreed to help a neighbour who has symptoms, or checked to see if our driver’s or maid’s children are coping well with online classes, or given them extra salary?

I say “our” and “we” because I am no higher-order being who is always on the “right path”; I am also human and equally guilty of having such thoughts and doing (or not doing) such actions. Case in point: there was a 20-minute debate at home to decide whether or not to lend our Oximeter to a neighbour who had a 100-degree fever (we did give it, and later religiously doused the Oximeter in sanitiser once we got it back). It seems logical to justify these actions in retrospect by saying that everyone puts safety first and that each of us is able to run his or her life in a way that’s as close to “normal” as possible.  As humans, we also need breaks; we need to forcibly throw ourselves into a different world to attain temporary bliss, which is why we spend hours mindlessly sitting in front of the TV watching IPL or binge-watch Netflix or do crossword puzzles.

In trying times like this, where each of us have our own difficulties to deal with, I propose that we put in some extra effort and take a moment to think about all those we know who have been selfless and caring. I am sure a few minutes of introspection would make you remember people and incidents in your life during the pandemic where someone has done some sacrifice to help you out, or when you have done the same to a friend or family member: a colleague who worked a few extra hours to cover for you when you needed sick leave, your driver who went to the market and got your groceries for you, or the time you paid for your maid’s vaccine or arranged for an ICU bed for a friend (I am reminded of the Hamam advertisement that was made last year, where a girl offers the soap to the delivery man so that he can keep himself safe too; call it brilliant marketing if you will, but it does strike a chord). Do what you can to help those who have not been able to take breaks: frontline workers, delivery men, doctors…

It is very easy to fall victim to the “drop in the bucket” effect, where you feel your efforts, however generous, will hardly matter given the massive size of the problem you are trying to solve. But I believe we can all start small. Criticising the mistakes or the stupidity of the masses is unlikely to impact anyone’s life or behaviour, but recognising the efforts and sacrifices of others to make your life a little easier goes a long way in making both your lives happy, as does making tiny contributions to improve the lives of others. You don’t have to donate a million bucks tomorrow or start a large-scale food donation camp, but the first step can be a change in mindset to do one such good deed every week (or every day, if that’s possible).

It is a dangerous time to step outside, and our go-to instinct is to be intimidated by the risk involved in helping others. But this is why having the change in mindset is the first step; those who want to help will find a way. It is also reasonable to wonder if someone would help if you were in a jam. At this stage, the best we can do is to help others in any way possible, however big or small, and trust that a fellow human will offer a helping hand when we are the ones who need it.