Jai Modiji Ki!

My wife and I walked into a “Primary Rural Health Centre” not far from our home in Tamil Nadu and stood before a counter secured with wire mesh. Before I could say ‘Vac…,’ the guy behind the mesh shot two questions in quick succession: my name and age. After jotting down the two pieces of information, he looked up and muttered the third, ‘Male,’ and added the third piece too. 

After handing me over a chit of paper with a number and my name written in Tamil, he pointed at another room. Significant other obtained another piece of paper.

In the other room, a young woman was at a desk with a register and a few elderly people were sitting in plastic chairs around her. Each elderly visitor was holding an AADHAAR card – for some unfathomable reason – in exactly the same way. I followed their style and waited. Within 10 minutes, I had my second round of interview. The young woman at the desk jotted down my name from the AADHAAR and asked for my phone number.

I forgot to tell you, a nurse too was there all the while, moving around briskly and pushing injections. As I was being interviewed, she (the nurse) asked me to pull up my left sleeve. She gave me a jab before I knew what was happening.

I am getting on in age, the reflexes are becoming even slower. Post-facto, I asked the nurse what vaccine she had given me, Covishield of Covaxin? For the uninitiated, these are the brand names of the two COVID-19 vaccines approved by the government of India so far.

Clearly unprepared for the question, the nurse replied, ‘Vaccine.’

I told her, anyway, I had had my jab, but I would like to know which vaccine I’d got. I repeated, “Covishield or Covaxin?”

A lady doctor in a white coat was passing by. Overhearing and not hearing part of the question, she turned around sharply and asked me, ‘Where did you get Covaxin?’

‘I don’t know if I’ve got the Covaxin. I’ve just got an injection here, I wanted to know what I’ve got.’

I must quickly add that with my limited understanding, I believe both the vaccines are fine, although one of them isn’t recommended for people with certain conditions. I also think there is some doubt in the mind of people about the Covaxin, the first indigenously produced COVID-19 vaccine, which is sad because we Indians ought to be proud of this phenomenal achievement by Indian scientists. The indigenous vaccine has been produced by a private company, Bharat Biotech in collaboration with the Indian Council of Medical Research (ICMR) and National Institute of Virology (NIV). It ranks alongside vaccines produced by massive pharma giants (Pfizer, Astra-Zeneca, Moderna, Johnson & Johnson) as well as by state initiative of huge countries like Russia (Sputnik V) and China (Sinovac). I believe the lack of confidence on Covaxin is only because our government – in its wisdom – approved it when there was no data in the public domain about its efficacy.

The doctor opened the thermally insulated can, checked the phials and said, ‘It’s Covishield only.’

I am a staunch critic of Modi ji, his government, his style of governance, and of course, the large number of goons among his supporters. I believe there are excellent reasons to be pissed off with the government. However, as I was leaving the health centre, I unreservedly commended the achievement of sending the vaccine to far corners of a large country so soon. The enormity of the challenge can be put in perspective by considering what much wealthier and sparsely populated countries have done so far. I have a former classmate who lives in Canada now. Just today, she has told me she doesn’t know when the vaccine will be available to them. In contrast, in India, we get it in an unassuming rural health centre far away from the capital within five days of beginning the process. I chanted “Jai Modi ji ki!” in my mind several times.

Tamil Nadu government too deserves credit for delivering the vaccine so efficiently. The public health infrastructure is excellent here. The primary health clinic I went to was sparklingly clean, much cleaner than some private hospitals I’ve been to. And it has a dialysis unit. We entered the main hall of the facility after taking off our shoes, like in temples. So in my mind, I also chanted “Long live Puratchi Thalaivi Amma.” (She is not alive, but in Tamil Nadu, not a leaf falls without her approval as long as her party is in power.)

*

I have a nephew-cum-friend who is senior healthcare professional. His scientific work doesn’t stop at his office; he has been urging people to get vaccinated as it is the only way to push back the pandemic. He has even taken a new, yet untested vaccine as part of a second-stage clinical trial, which I believe, was brave of him.

He was genuinely happy when he knew that we had got the jabs. In the evening, he called me to express his happiness. As I told him the the “Modi ji ki Jai!” bit, he said, ‘Hang on, don’t rush to congratulate Modi ji.’

‘Why not?’

‘India has a robust vaccine delivery system. It began with small pox vaccination and has been perfected over more than half a century. The finest example was the pulse polio vaccination drive, when health workers visited individual homes to vaccinate infants. … In a huge country of our size. Modi deserves no credit for getting you vaccinated. You can praise Nehru if you wish!’

I looked back and thought of the small pox vaccination which I used to welcome as a child because it often resulted in mild fever and a reprieve from school. Then the cholera jabs and something called TABC. Later, my children got immunised over five years in a systematic manner against all sorts of evil eyes, and the facility was available to every child in government hospitals for free. I also recalled that the relative failure of the COVID virus in India has been connected to the BCG vaccine given to Indian children systematically and widely.

The revelation also brought in a touch of sadness for me. I had thought for a change, my numerous Modi-leaning friends will be happy with what I write.

My bad!

6 March 2021

This place near our village you see in the picture is what Time Square is to New York, Flora Fountain is to Mumbai, or Esplanade is to Kolkata. You haven't missed the garbage dump in the bottom right corner, have you? The health centre I have written about was even cleaner.