Do not be alarmed. Do not be tense. Mosquitoes are the culprits,” said a leading Indian politician as swine flu spread across the nation.
“We have arranged for isolated beds to tackle the situation,” she said, allaying fears of the hapless population.
As I was planning to visit Delhi in the summer, I quickly read up articles on how to keep away from mosquitoes. “Sit next to a cow,” advised one scientific treatise. It said mosquitoes are attracted to cows and will ignore you and feed on its blood.
“That’s mean,” I thought to myself, reminded of a cow I saw once constantly swatting flies with its tail as it sat on a busy street. “Sending mosquitoes in its direction would be inhumane.”
Another scientific journal said it does not help if you tether cattle outside your home and that it is more effective if you have insecticide-treated bed nets to control malaria. “What the heck,” I told myself. “It says mosquitoes cause malaria. Must be a new strain of mosquitoes causing swine flu.”
Anyway, say the word “mosquito” and the hair on the nape of my neck stands up. It is said that the brain forgets the horrible things that have happened to you and that it is the key to our survival, because if you remember every single bad thing that happened in your life, you can become a cringing mental wreck.
However, for some reason I still remember one blistering, warm, summer night I spent in Delhi, with one bloodsucking tyrant of a mosquito that would not let me sleep. It was a scene from one of those stereotypical Hollywood movies about Asia: My face glistening with sweat, bleary-eyed and swatting in the air blindly with arms swollen and red with bites.
“My iPhone has a mosquito repeller app”, said my wife, as I was checking the internet on how to avoid swine flu. “There’s so much information here,” I said, and checked out the app and found that it sends off sound waves that annoy mosquitoes.
It comes in 14kHz, 16kHz and 20kHz bandwidths or whatever its called. One reviewer said he tried it in Yucatan. “Maybe this developer can make a Unicorn Attractor app,” he suggested in disgust.
Every time we visit India we take with us tonnes of insect repellents: Creams, unguents, sprays and blocks of my favourite cheese. Once the customs officer told me to open my luggage as he could not decipher the contents through the X-ray machine and probably suspected I was some sort of an anarchist.
Just when I was about to give up on how to protect myself from this terrible sounding and demeaning illness, the mayor of another Indian town said that swine flu was caused by heart disease.
“We shall plant trees, develop gardens and parks to check swine flu,” she said after garlanding a statue.
“What? Make up your mind,” I shouted. It, however, seemed like a good idea to build parks where people can walk and work off those extra pounds. “A brisk walk for 30 minutes every day will reduce the risk of getting a heart attack,” a doctor had told me when I was researching why so many people were entering hospitals with faulty tickers.
One medical site said swine flu was a virus and spread by coughing and sneezing. “Wash your hands often (whenever you touch anything) and keep away from crowded places,” said one doctor, when I called him for advice.
Trying to keep away from crowded places in Delhi would be impossible, I thought, as there is no place there where it is not crowded. How will I wash immediately after meeting someone and shaking his hand?
Mahmood Saberi is a freelance journalist based in Dubai. You can follow him on Twitter at www.twitter.com/@mahmood_saberi
