Inspired by Alison’s post (and the symbolic recycling bins?), and having just reached the grand old age of 80 last Monday, I feel ready to join in this conversation.
The images of the great Indian migrant exodus are fresh in the memory of the nation. Migrant workers came in droves to Anand Vihar Bus Depot in East Delhi on March 28, 2020, following a rumour that transport is being provided to people travelling to the eastern and central Indian states. They waited patiently with discipline for more than 36 hours and then started walking to their villages.
This is the sort of time when you write and re-write a blog post. Everything seems like the wrong thing to say, but for different reasons; not least that things are moving so fast that a new event could happen at any moment and make a blog post obsolete before it is even published. I wanted to start, then, with one such event, but to try and tie it into something permanent.
I watch those lines getting longer, hazier and staggering. Families and children walking hundreds of kilometers during the hot Indian summer. Children on the back of worn out parents – their tired piercing eyes lashing out to humanity.
Climate change and Coronavirus are global problems. The former encouraged global cooperation (although the U.S. has withdrawn from the Paris Agreement) while the latter seems to create “us” versus “them” dynamics among countries. Would Corona-nationalism undermine global cooperation in the future?
I’ll begin by asking you to picture a scene. I am outside my house, with my four-year-old daughter. It’s a Thursday evening; 7.56pm to be precise. We have lifted her (small) drumkit out onto the front gravel and I have grabbed a large frying pan and a wooden spoon from our kitchen.