What happens if there is, god forbid, an ebola outbreak in India? This thought began to worry me after a man was discovered in New Delhi airport with ebola in his semen. I thought I read wrong, but no, that is where it was. The third thought that struck me was kind of reassuring: New Delhi airport was so thorough in its checks that they even did an instant semen check like you do an instant blood sugar test. How did they do this then and there, in a cubicle, with girlie magazines, like they have in sperm banks that you see in films?
Then I remembered the ebola story of a friend who had only two weeks ago returned from Nigeria. I’d cautioned him against trying anything funny in Nigeria, and take the best precaution known to man in times of outbreak of rare and exotic viruses: use a hand sanitiser frequently, preferably before, after and during whatever he was going to do in Nigeria. He gave me a look that was both dirty and reproachful and reminded me that he was going there to sing. He further assured me that there was nothing to worry about as the UN had just declared Nigeria ebola-free. I told him that meant nothing: the US had declared victory in Iraq and look what happened… Being of a cautious nature, he packed half his suitcase with hand sanitisers.
We were continuously rubbing our hands with the hand sanitiser from the time we left Mumbai, he was to recount to me later. Every sneeze they heard, made them jump out of their skins. But as soon as they disembarked, even before they got to the immigration, they were efficiently shepherded to health officials who aimed temperature guns at them and took from them detailed questionnaires that probed if they had any fever or persistent cough, and their yellow fever vaccination form. They were impressed by the methodical system, the order amid the chaos of the Lagos airport, old and run down, where huge crowds milled around the luggage carousel which had suffered from some kind of breakdown. Their return to Mumbai was another story altogether. At Lagos, another temperature gun had been aimed at each of them and the reading duly noted in a form and a photocopy taken and the original given to each of the passengers with the instruction that Mumbai authorities would be asking them for it and it had to be handed over then. This was the proof there were no ebola symptoms at the time of leaving Lagos. In the plane, they had to fill another form —the Indian ebola form—which was indecipherable and they had to hand it over in Mumbai as well.
At Mumbai airport, there was no announcement that a health check should be done, no ground staff directing passengers. My friend, who was not one of the first to disembark, spied the health counter only after he went looking for it. There was no queue in front of it. No temperature gun was aimed at his forehead. The person behind the counter did not even bother stamping all the ebola cards. My friend asked where he was to submit the other form. What other form, the man behind the counter asked. When he saw it, he said he didn’t want it. The immigration was also not interested. So just imagine anybody with ebola symptoms could have waltzed through… Unbelievable? Or just plain scary? You decide.
Sudarshan is the author of Anatomy of an Abduction: How the Indian Hostages in Iraq Were Freed
sudarshan@newindianexpress.com