After India’s first fatality of COVID-19 — a 76-year-old man who was later code-named ‘P6’ — was reported from Kalaburagi, the northeastern city of Karnataka went into shutdown mode.
As part of the collective fight against the viral disease, Deputy Commissioner and District Magistrate B. Sharat, in his bid to prevent spread, not just put the entire State machinery on a war-footing to combat the disease, but went on to impose restrictions on religious, social, trade and commerce, educational, and cultural activities to minimise large gatherings.
Within a few after March 12, the day P6 tested positive for the diease after his death on March 10, the city had almost come to a standstill. All educational institutions, including schools, colleges, universities and tuition centres, were closed down. Restrictions were imposed on religious events like jatras and temple-car events. Sections of government offices that offered public services were closed. Except for those selling essential goods and services such as hospitals, pharmacy outlets, grocery shops, vegetable and fruit outlets, petrol pumps, and milk parlours, all other establishments such as the shopping malls, cinemas, multiplexes, roadside eateries, hotels, lodges, garages, APMC trading units, and units that were categorised as ‘non-essentials’ were forced to close down. On top of this, Section 144 was clamped to further beef up preventive measures. Police patrolling was intensified. As a result, the city wore a deserted look. Most people remained indoors. The vehicular movement got very thin.
The restrictions might have been very much necessary to combat the deadly disease. They might have had a little impact on the upper strata of society. However, they hit those living from hand to mouth, the daily wagers, street vendors, roadside eateries’ runners and alike, who survive on daily earning.
Saifan, 25-year-old roadside fruit vendor near China Market in Kalaburagi’s supermarket area, for instance, is finding it difficult to manage. His business is allowed to operate as it comes under ‘essential commodities’. But, there is a little business as people remain indoors. As a result, his profits have dropped from ₹500 a day to just ₹150. “I will not get even ₹150 on Sunday as Prime Minister Narendra Modi has called for people’s curfew. It’s difficult to manage my family. I don’t know how I will sustain if the restrictions continue for another month,” he said on Friday.
Sudhishna, a 26-year-old banana vendor who sells fruits in SBI colony, Old Jevargi Road, P&T Quarters, Santosh Colony, and New Jevargi Road areas in the city between 7 a.m. and 10 a.m. before going to work as a maid in an educational institution, is finding it very difficult to procure the fruits. On regular days, she would invest around ₹300 every morning and take home around ₹150 profit by 10 a.m. Now, she turns up in the locality once in four days as the fruit supply to wholesale market is disrupted due to restrictions. She does not have a job most of the week as the has been closed.
Syed Naseer, a 25-year old man who used to sell undergarments, had to stop his business as the products were categorised as ‘non-essential commodities’. But, he cannot afford to sit at home as he is the sole breadwinner of his family. An idea of selling masks, which were in demand now, paved the way for him to continue his business in a new form. He and his friend immediately got cloth masks stitched, loaded them on their carts and sells them near Jagat Circle. “I used to do business up to ₹8,000, with a profit of up to ₹2,000 a day. Now, I make around ₹500 and get a profit of ₹150 by selling masks,” he told The Hindu.
Other street vendors whose businesses were categorised as ‘non-essential commodities’ were not seen on the streets.
