Photo Credit: The Indian Express
Three years after India lifted most COVID-19 restrictions, the masks are off, the hospital wards are quieter, and the term “social distancing” feels like a relic. For many, the pandemic is a thing of the past, a chapter they’ve gladly shut. But viruses don’t read calendars. They mutate, adapt, and return when least expected.
As news trickles in of fresh cases in Europe and the United States, including the latest variant KP.2, the uncomfortable question resurfaces: Are we actually prepared for COVID-19 in 2025, or have we just moved on too quickly?
India, for the most part, is back to business as usual. The elections went off without a hitch. Malls are packed, and weddings have regained their pre-pandemic pomp. And yet, beneath this vibrant surface, healthcare professionals have begun to murmur again. A quiet rise in respiratory infections, fewer people testing, and limited booster uptake are flashing yellow lights most would rather ignore.
Public memory is short, especially when it’s painful. The haunting images from April-May 2021, of gasping patients, oxygen shortages, and burning pyres – have faded from front pages and dinner table conversations alike. But has our health system learned its lessons?
The infrastructure, undoubtedly, is stronger. Oxygen plants have been installed in district hospitals. ICU beds have multiplied. There are SOPs, apps, and drills. But readiness is not just a logistical checklist it’s also about mindset. And that’s where the cracks begin to show.
For starters, booster fatigue is real. The initial vaccine enthusiasm has fizzled into indifference. There’s no urgency, no campaign, no clear guidance on whether and when the next shot is due. Most Indians under 45 haven’t received any COVID booster since 2022, leaving a significant part of the population vulnerable, especially with newer variants that evade older immunity.
Testing too has dropped off the radar. Even symptomatic individuals are unlikely to get tested today. In rural areas, test kits are scarce, and in urban India, people prefer to “wait it out.” That’s not just personal complacency – it’s a public health blind spot. Without testing and sequencing, how would we even know if a new variant is circulating in our cities?
And then there’s policy inertia. No one wants to talk about COVID anymore — not in Parliament, not in press conferences. Mask mandates are politically unpopular. Travel guidelines are minimal. Even airport surveillance, once our first line of defense, has gone lax. The virus thrives when vigilance weakens. But the political will to reintroduce even gentle caution seems missing.
Of course, there’s merit in avoiding panic. No one’s asking for lockdowns or fear campaigns. But smart preparedness doesn’t require hysteria. It requires anticipation – of trends, of data, of early symptoms. That doesn’t seem to be part of our public discourse anymore.
Elsewhere in the world, countries are already budgeting for next-gen vaccines and investing in updated boosters. Japan and the UK have begun sequencing wastewater again, a subtle yet powerful surveillance tool. India, by contrast, seems content to hope the worst is behind us.
But viruses, especially this one, have a way of returning just when we stop watching.
So here we are in 2025, with stronger hospitals, better awareness, and vastly improved coordination systems. And yet, it takes only one unpredictable variant to test all of that. Whether we respond with science or sentimentality may decide how the next chapter unfolds.
After all, pandemics rarely end with a bang. Most just fade into the background – until they don’t.
