<p>In my 20s, I naively thought I could control my life and it would turn out how I envisaged. However, it turned out I was wrong. Life had something very different in store for me. A series of unplanned events propelled me to take a leap of faith into the unfamiliar, where I often felt like I was being guided by a powerful intangible force -- a force that I hadn’t known existed.</p>.<p>Living in India has been an enlightening journey of adjustment. I’ve experienced events that would be unfathomable for me back in Australia -- a devastating sweeping terrorist attack on my city (Mumbai), debilitating dengue fever and malaria, and the trials and tribulations of a surprise demonetisation. I’ve also witnessed the ongoing tragedies that have given rise to Mumbai being repetitively lauded for its indomitable “spirit”. The floods, the building and bridge collapses, the fires, the stampedes, and the routine hardships. </p>.<p>The coronavirus grimly shocked the western world, by snatching its freedom and penetrating its illusion of invincibility with death. I’m surprised how calm I am about the virus. To me, it’s just another adversity to be faced and dealt with. A tragedy happens somewhere every day in India. Yet, people pick themselves up and resiliently continue on. They have no choice. More than that though, they’re empowered by the belief that their fate is already set. When and how they will die is out of their hands. There’s nothing they can do about it. Although this fatalistic attitude largely belongs to India’s working-class poor, it’s what gives me the greatest stability in this extreme era of uncertainty. If my time is up, a mask and sanitiser won’t save me. If it’s not up, I’ll survive. </p>.<p>The reality is that the virus isn’t going to disappear anytime soon in India, where it has proved impossible to enforce social distancing in densely crowded areas. The lockdown can only hold back the spread of the virus for so long, while economic distress deepens and job losses grow. Many experts now believe that the infection is far more prevalent than initially thought, given the number of people showing only mild symptoms or none at all. Without broad testing, no one can be certain what we’re dealing with. Decisions are being driven by fear, rather than conclusive information, and the harsh truth is that there’s no guaranteed solution to the problem. Nevertheless, we <span class="italic">are</span> going to have to get on with our lives sooner rather than later. And, we’re going to have to do it alongside the virus, taking whatever precautions we deem necessary. Deaths <span class="italic">will</span> inevitably occur -- if not from the virus, from economic depression and destitution.</p>.<p>The possibilities are scary, no doubt. So, how do we not be overwhelmed by fear? By adjusting to what can’t be changed. The virus is just one more thing, out of many, that has the potential to kill us. I’m not pessimistic or hopeless about it. I’ll keep looking after my health and behaving responsibly. However, I’m not going to stress myself out over the existence of the virus. What control do we really have over how our life ends anyway? Even an innocuous act of supposed free will can bring us to our death. Take for example, the Mumbai doctor who decided to wade through waterlogged streets to reach home during the monsoon a few years ago. He fell into an open manhole and got washed away down the drain. When your time is up, indeed it’s up.</p>
<p>In my 20s, I naively thought I could control my life and it would turn out how I envisaged. However, it turned out I was wrong. Life had something very different in store for me. A series of unplanned events propelled me to take a leap of faith into the unfamiliar, where I often felt like I was being guided by a powerful intangible force -- a force that I hadn’t known existed.</p>.<p>Living in India has been an enlightening journey of adjustment. I’ve experienced events that would be unfathomable for me back in Australia -- a devastating sweeping terrorist attack on my city (Mumbai), debilitating dengue fever and malaria, and the trials and tribulations of a surprise demonetisation. I’ve also witnessed the ongoing tragedies that have given rise to Mumbai being repetitively lauded for its indomitable “spirit”. The floods, the building and bridge collapses, the fires, the stampedes, and the routine hardships. </p>.<p>The coronavirus grimly shocked the western world, by snatching its freedom and penetrating its illusion of invincibility with death. I’m surprised how calm I am about the virus. To me, it’s just another adversity to be faced and dealt with. A tragedy happens somewhere every day in India. Yet, people pick themselves up and resiliently continue on. They have no choice. More than that though, they’re empowered by the belief that their fate is already set. When and how they will die is out of their hands. There’s nothing they can do about it. Although this fatalistic attitude largely belongs to India’s working-class poor, it’s what gives me the greatest stability in this extreme era of uncertainty. If my time is up, a mask and sanitiser won’t save me. If it’s not up, I’ll survive. </p>.<p>The reality is that the virus isn’t going to disappear anytime soon in India, where it has proved impossible to enforce social distancing in densely crowded areas. The lockdown can only hold back the spread of the virus for so long, while economic distress deepens and job losses grow. Many experts now believe that the infection is far more prevalent than initially thought, given the number of people showing only mild symptoms or none at all. Without broad testing, no one can be certain what we’re dealing with. Decisions are being driven by fear, rather than conclusive information, and the harsh truth is that there’s no guaranteed solution to the problem. Nevertheless, we <span class="italic">are</span> going to have to get on with our lives sooner rather than later. And, we’re going to have to do it alongside the virus, taking whatever precautions we deem necessary. Deaths <span class="italic">will</span> inevitably occur -- if not from the virus, from economic depression and destitution.</p>.<p>The possibilities are scary, no doubt. So, how do we not be overwhelmed by fear? By adjusting to what can’t be changed. The virus is just one more thing, out of many, that has the potential to kill us. I’m not pessimistic or hopeless about it. I’ll keep looking after my health and behaving responsibly. However, I’m not going to stress myself out over the existence of the virus. What control do we really have over how our life ends anyway? Even an innocuous act of supposed free will can bring us to our death. Take for example, the Mumbai doctor who decided to wade through waterlogged streets to reach home during the monsoon a few years ago. He fell into an open manhole and got washed away down the drain. When your time is up, indeed it’s up.</p>