The thud yesterday morning broke the calm I had got used to in the last few weeks I went out to the balcony, and saw that the construction activity at a school complex had recommenced. The decibel levels were rising. It was cacophony… and so soothing.

In normal circumstance, nobody likes to live next to a construction site; I am no exception. Till a few weeks ago, I used to curse my fate for being so close to an under-construction building. I cribbed about the dust arising from the site, about the sound pollution. With the first sign of all that coming back once again— I was happy.

Things came to a sudden standstill since March 25, when Prime Minister Narendra Modi imposed the nationwide lockdown. The dynamics of the site changed overnight.

Work stopped. The structure bore a ghostly look. Despite the not-so-happy madness, the sudden eerie silence and ghostly look gave out an uncomfortable sense of disruption. It was the place which always buzzed with the activities of men and women—carrying cement on their heads, plastering the walls, laying metal pipes, and so on.

Everything changed overnight. The whole country was in a battle mode—the only focus was to arrest the spread of the coronavirus. The disease and, more so, the paranoia around the disease had taken centre-stage.

The small deserted half excavated site, reminded one of the plight of the workers, many of whom may have lost their jobs and earnings, many of whom may have walked hundreds of miles to reach their native villages, spending days without food.

However now as the construction work gradually picks up at this small site, it somewhere seemed to signify the end of hibernation, the resuscitation of life..