Plague Gone, Still Quarantined

The BA student now confines himself mostly to home. ‘‘I spend most of my time studying or watching TV. My friends, with whom I used to hang around earlier at the local market in Hatkoti, avoid my house. And other people badger me with questions about how my cousin Randhir (the first plague victim of the village) contracted the disease. I feel embarrassed about that, so I prefer staying at home,’’ he says.

Randhir’s sister Aradhana seconds him. ‘‘People still view us with suspicion,’’ she says. ‘‘Though the initial isolation has worn off, even relatives who visit us maintain a physical distance while talking to us. They seem to think they can get plague just by breathing the air we breathe.’’

While strangers react far more aggressively — Aradhana says they still cover their faces while passing through or by the hamlet — the village has been the most affected by the boycott of the buses. ‘‘It’s made life difficult for us,’’ says a villager. ‘‘Even the few buses that pass through roll up their windows in the village.’’

But perhaps no story is as pathetic as that of Shanti Sautha, Randhir’s mother. Till date, the family hasn’t informed her that the plague has claimed her daughter Anu, who was being treated at the PGI, Chandigarh, as well. ‘‘That’s because her younger son Navdeep, Randhir’s brother, is still at PGI. She may give up hope for him as well if she learns her daughter’s died,’’ whispers Chander Singh Sautha, a close relative of the family.

That is why the old lady tells this reporter, ‘‘The disease has brought a bad name to our family. But though it claimed my son and daughter-in-law, my daughter and my second son are recovering in a Chandigarh hospital’’.

Delusional? Maybe, but as the other Sauthas believe, that may be the state of mind to be most envied right now.