Different types of scenarios have been unfolding in various sectors of the country over the last one week. They include Dhaka-bound people's frantic rush to the city. People have been seen on board motor launches, large ferry boats,trucks etc. sticking to one another in a virtual single mass. Long-distance buses and trains were still out of service. The mandatory following of physical distance and other measures aimed at preventing Covid-19 infection proved to be a pipedream.
A couple of days later, small-scale traffic gridlocks at the capital's roundabouts, honking of unnecessary horns and the creeping of hawkers onto the footpaths reminded people that the 66-day shutdown was over. But in accordance with the government order, wearing of masks by passersby continued to be a must-follow rule.
The ubiquitous rickshaws started streaming out along with private cars. Public transports hit the road on a limited scale. In spite of the opening of government and private offices, people were cautious; they thought twice before starting for their workplaces. It was because the air was feared to be still filled with the invisible monster of novel coronavirus. Nobody was sure, from which direction the virus would make its assault. Never in the past in its history did the inhabitants of the city feel so panicked due to the pervasive, but unseen, presence of the agents of a pandemic disease.
Apparently the capital at present is trying its best to become operative - as well as normal. Still reeling from the sudden onslaught of the pandemic's attack over two months back, its residents still feel wary. Due to their long stay-at-home confinement, they are feared to take some more time to smartly come out onto the roads, take a rickshaw or a bus and go to their workplaces or shopping zones.
A weird plight plagues the private car owners, as they are afraid of boarding their own cars. They cannot say for sure that the body and the interior of their inoperative vehicles are completely free of Covid-19 virus. Moreover, engines and batteries malfunction after a long-time nonuse. The drivers of many of these cars have yet to return to Dhaka. A number of them are suspected to have been infected withcoronavirus.
The overall environs of the country at present are glum -especially that of its capital. An eerie silence appears to have descended on the densely populated metropolis. Except the shrill cries of vendors in the alleyways, few full-throated angst-free voices can be heard. On the main roads, bus helpers have yet to start shouting to lure passengers to their buses. After the withdrawal of the 66-daynationwide shutdown, many areas of the country have yet to return to their earlier normalcy. In Dhaka, the roads have just started witnessingtheir brisk traffic movement. Many footpaths in the distant segments of the city are lying virtually deserted.
Although the shopping enclaves and high-rise malls have opened, the number of shoppers is still thin. Although local and mid-distance buses are plying jam-packed, some others follow the post-shutdown government directives on physical distance. They are running with half of their sitting capacity filled. At some points, the pre-shutdown jostling and the frenzied competition to get into and alight from the buses seem to have disappeared. Dhaka appears to be trying to adapt to urbane manners in commuting.
The people who look beyond the present 'civilised' look of Dhaka discover upsetting developments as well. There are reports of rising novel coronavirus infections and of deaths coming from different city neighbourhoods. The overallsituation of the capital is filled with gloom. With the day-to-day life still limping, and people getting morose, we need to search for some in-house outlets for jubilation. It is the collective celebration of life which can effectively vanquish the spectres of fear and foreboding.
