Pakodas in the time of pandemic

My wife and I are part of a senior citizen group that meets every month at a member's house for a pot-luck lunch. Our turn to host came at the beginning of March 2020. As the coronavirus scare began, we didn’t know what to do. The consensus among members was to meet, as no lockdown had yet been announced. Besides, none of us had recently travelled abroad or come into contact with anyone returning from foreign lands. We had lots of laughter and mirth in our meeting. We wanted to enjoy as much as possible, as the future was uncertain. The highlight of the lunch was the hot pakodas Mrs Bhattacharya had brought.

When we complimented the lady about the taste, she said that it was her daughter Madhu who had made them. Hearing this, someone asked her, "Isn’t Madhu living abroad?" Mrs Bhattacharya said, "Yes, she came two days ago from Paris on work."

I was startled to hear this. Bhattacharyas were the primary contacts of a potential corona carrier, and all of us had close physical interaction with them. Besides, I had consumed half a dozen pakodas made by a foreign returnee. Having read that the virus could spread through food, my heart sank.

When I asked Mrs Bhattacharya why she hadn’t informed us about Madhu’s arrival, she just smiled. Asked why Madhu hasn’t been quarantined, she nonchalantly said, "Madhu got tested in Paris, and the result was negative." Asked about the test at Bengaluru, she replied that the airport testing was random and Madhu was spared.

When the guests left, my son took me to task. "Europe had a large number of Corona cases. What is the guarantee that Madhu wasn’t infected before or during her journey? Why didn’t she quarantine herself? And why did you host the meeting and make me eat those pakodas?" His angry questioning went on.

I pacified him there was no point in crying over split milk and that we should concentrate on how to face the consequences. I shared our concern with the group members. Panic-stricken, they asked me to consult a doctor and share his suggestions with them. The doctor wanted Madhu to be tested. She straightaway refused, stating that if she went for a test, officials would quarantine her. Then the doctor ordered us to check our temperatures three times a day and report any corona symptoms.

Meanwhile, our friends had resorted to many types of preventive medications. One of them overconsumed an ayurvedic mixture, resulting in a severe sore throat.

I created a WhatsApp group for members to report their daily well-being. Everyone complied except the Bhattacharyas. Every morning I called their residence to check if they were all right. On the third day, I could hear Bhattacharya cursing in the background. On the fifth day, they stopped receiving my calls. But I called their neighbours for information. Fourteen days after the pakoda party, none of us had been infected. It was a great relief. Our meetings, which had stopped after the lockdown was announced, restarted this year. The Bhattacharyas aren’t coming. We are all missing their super-tasty pakodas.