Humans, Hope And Faith

By Ramya Sundara Raman

Often in life, life throws upon us situations that are no less than the least expected nightmares we have. While nightmares can be forgotten, or at least ignored, these real-life situations can never be.

They leave upon us a scar that has the capacity to completely change the type of people we are. Right down to one’s basic values.

Case in point: the second wave of COVID-19 in 2021. While political parties were busy in either covering up the actual figures of death, or use it as a way to criticize the ruling government, what nobody had the spine to face, was the collapse of medical infrastructure and the loss of lives of lakhs of innocent people. This loss broke many families but also was a real test of character of many people.

Ramita was a carefree and fun-loving girl, extremely close to her parents and ignorant of the important things in life. The first lockdown of COVID was a Gala time for Ramita, who had just finished her post graduate diploma and was now pursuing her masters from a distance education university. Not only was she able to spend more time with her parents, but also learn baking something that she yearned to do for a long time. So, she watched all the web series that she had missed out on, baked and cooked to her heart’s content, and was having a fairly drama free time, without the pressure of having to apply to 10 different companies everyday. It is not that she didn’t want to work, it’s just that, she was lazy. And also, had an incredibly thick skin.

All her friends had got placed with well paying salaries and were now working from home. Ramita, on the other hand, was more academically inclined and wasn’t in a hurry to get sucked into the 9-5 race of giving up one’s dreams for a monthly pay-cheque… At least that’s what she thought, then.

So, she decided to pursue her masters and her voice acting and theatre side by side. Things were going on smoothly till the COVID hit unexpectedly.

The first year went on smoothly. That was, until the first day of 2021 happened. Ramita’s father, Amol received a phone call from one of his dear family friends to know that another of his very well-known friend had passed away due to COVID.

“What rotten day! The day starts with the news of someone’s death. I wonder what this year has in store for us,” grumbled Ramita.

As carefree as she was, she had a weird sense of premonition about a lot of things, something which made her very uncomfortable, because more often than not, her premonitions would come true. Around 2.5 months passed away without anything major, but with COVID cases increasing everyday and rumours of another lockdown started doing the rounds. Ramita was getting a little concerned as two of her colleagues from the theatre got infected with COVID and they were in touch with her regarding how they felt and their un-ending coughs and sour throat voices made Ramita’s heart a little scared somewhere.

Since one of her parents, that is, her mom, Amrita, worked in a bank, she came under the essential services. This made Ramita even more cautious and she and her father made sure that Amrita came home and had a bath before doing anything. Just to be safe from any infections. They equipped her with a fresh mask and pair of gloves every day to prevent infection too.

But no matter how much one is equipped and careful, what is bound to happen, cannot be stopped even after a million precautions.

Amrita came home one night and started shivering. Her temperature shot up to 102 and Ramita and her father, kept consulting their family friend (who was a pharmacist in Bhopal with more than 20 years of knowledge and experience) and gave her all the medication and appropriate diet they could, that night.

The next morning, Amol took a visibly weak and shivering Amrita to their family doctor, just a few hundred metres from their house. The doctor, Dr. Chandrakant, was a very good man. An experienced surgeon, he had once operated on Amol’s injury very competently and cured it too.

He had a way with his words and usually brought a smile to his patients’ faces with his comic timing. He assured Amol that Amrita only had viral fever and gave her medication for 5 days. But, even after 5 days, Amrita’s fever wasn’t going down.

Ramita started panicking, so did the usually calm and composed Amol.

He held his dear wife close to him one morning and Ramita could hear his voice choking with tears when he said, “Amrita, what will I do without you? How will I take care of Ramita? Please try your best to get well. You just can’t be sick like this. I’m helpless without you.”

Ramita’s eyes welled up with tears. She felt helpless in hearing her parents like this. She wished that moment that she should’ve studied for medicine, instead of journalism.

That was the common feeling of everyone, whose loved one was infected.

Innumerable WhatsApp forwards were flooding everyone’s phones, assuring some that COVID was nothing more than common cold, others that a nebulizer can be used without any medicine. Some others suggested pulse points to increase oxygen circulation, while the remainder spoke of the “Kadha” recipe (a concoction for decreasing cold and cough) that was most effective.

When something is available in abundance, it becomes impossible to trust on any one thing. For example, here, information.

Amol did not blindly trust on anything and continued to pray and give medication to an ailing Amrita. He also did all the cooking, cleaning, and washing of dishes and clothing, while making Ramita stay at a distance so that she doesn’t get infected. Luckily, Amrita started recovering, thanks to the efforts of Amol and the medications which worked for her.

But fate seemed to be on its own little trip. Now, Ramita got fever and her body too started shivering.

Amol was beginning to worry if indeed his daughter had contracted COVID. But the news from his near and dear ones of those getting hospitalised and not coming back alive scared him even more.

But at last, Ramita’s fever too reduced. And thankfully, one Saturday afternoon, all three of them had daliya khichdi and slept like a log … But was this a calm... before the storm?

In the evening, Amol started shivering violently. He even started vomiting everything he had eaten before. Amrita immediately protested that Amol should come to doctor Chandrakant. Amol, usually reluctant to go to the doctor, went with her.

Ramita anxiously sat at home and played every bhajan and mantra that she could find, hoping that something might bring a miracle and cure Amol quickly. Her heart resided in her father.

Around an hour had passes and Ramita did not receive any phone call from her father or her mother.

She immediately wore her shoes, locked her house, and rushed out to the clinic. She ran inside to find her father lying down on a bed like an innocent child, looking at his caretaker, for a reassuring glance that they’ll never leave them... Amrita said that the doctor had given him two injections and that if the fever doesn’t come down, they’ll get a COVID test done. Amol looked at Chradrakant with a pleading look and said, “Sir, please do something and cure me, it’s just the three of us. Nobody is there for us. I need to live for my daughter and my wife.”

Indeed, Amol knew who was who. With age, comes experiences, that make you wise enough to look beyond the artificial giggles and gossip to see who is honestly there for you, when unexpected moments of peril haunt your life.

Chandrakant gave a reassuring smile and said, “Relax, it’s just a viral infection and nothing else. I’ve arranged for a blood test and if something comes up in it, only then will I recommend a COVID test”.

But Ramita wasn’t satisfied. Her father’s health had deteriorated suddenly, even though he was working day and night to tend to his sick family, so maybe the exhaustion may have affected his immunity system even more than it should have.

She looked at the doctor skeptically and then took her father and mother back home.

The naïve Amrita, in hopes of help, called every relation of Amol for help, in case they need to hospitalize him. Instead, she heard their own cases of excuses, comments and….well….questions. For example, “Oh, one of my known works here, but he said beds aren’t available,” “Well, you should have taken more precautions”, “I wish I could come, but there’s nobody to cook for my husband. And he can’t even boil water,” or the evergreen classic: “Oh my God, ‘What happened’”, even after the grapevine had given every detail to everyone.

Ramita literally felt like banging the receiver of her landline on every relative’s head. None of them had anything productive to offer and all they wanted was juicy gossip from a sick relative.

Amol was not happy that Amrita was begging for help from useless people. But at the same time, his vomiting grew more violent with each passing minute.

Ramita kept a bucket near him so that he wouldn’t have to get up every time. He looked with his weary eyes towards his young daughter. He could see his younger self, doing the same for his parents when they would fall sick... He had a satisfied smile on his face and lovingly placed his palm on his daughter’s head, as if to tell her that he’s blessing her.

Ramita took her father’s hand and kissed it.

Amrita silently witnessed this loving scene and wept quietly.

What had their sweet little family done to beget this situation, she thought.

The next evening, the doctor called Ramita and informed her that Amol had to be tested for COVID. This sent shivers down everyone’s spine. Ramita was upset that the doctor took so long to diagnose her father when he clearly looked sick enough for a test. She asked him for a recommendation for a hospital nearby where they could admit him. But the Doctor only gave the number of a hospital and asked her to keep trying till she gets a bed vacant there.

Ramita was speechless. What was this doctor talking about?

Keep trying??

He then gave her the number of a COVID doctor who would give video consultations and prescribe medicines over a video call.

Amol couldn’t sleep a wink that night.

He kept thinking of his family. What would befall them, would something unfortunately happen to him. That very thought made him even more sick and he vomited even more.

On the morning of 11th of April, Amol got tested for COVID. And as Amrita and Ramita were making breakfast, both of them saw Amol write something in a diary.

Ramita took a second to realize what he was doing and screamed. Amrita panicked and ran to him. Ramita reprimanded her father as she had caught him writing his Will. Amrita started weeping and hugged Amol. Ramita said, “Papa, do you not have faith in us that we can cure you? Stop writing that RIGHT NOW. “.

Amol, with his tired eyes, looked at her and said, “Okay beta, just this last line” and continued to write, despite pleas from his wife and daughter to stop.

Amol’s fear started taking the shape of a very scary beast that looks into your eyes to its heart’s content before killing you mercilessly.

Amol’s health started deteriorating in the next 5-6 days. The vomiting had sopped , but the infection now started spreading to his lungs and despite a nebulizer, nothing was bringing relief to his lungs or his health.

The doctor on video call gave consultation only after he was paid his fee of 750 Rupees along with a screenshot to confirm the payment. Amol’s fever was fluctuating but his lung infection did not come down at all. Ramita kept checking his Oxygen level. While it was 92 in the beginning, it came to 88 ,87 and 84 now.

There were no hospital beds available near the house too.

Ramita felt hopeless but she had heard from one of her friends that her mom had been hospitalized and put on IV drips. Now she was better. Ramita decided to do that, at home.

She went to 4 different pharmacy shops to get the drips, the injections, the IV tubes and the regulator.

She called up Dr. Chandrakant and asked him how to go about it. He arranged for a compounder to come to their home. The compounder came to their home, looked at their petrified faces and decided to say, “Why are you so sad? You should not take any tension and relax and see TV.”

Flabbergasted at his insensitive comment, Ramita just looked at him in disbelief and said, “Thank you, you may go now.”

But she said immediately, “When will you come back to change the drips and all?”

He said, “I’ll be back at 8, but you can change the drips yourself”. And he left, leaving Ramita and her mother helpless. Everyone was privy to their situation, but even those relatives, living just 2 kms away from their house, decided to not risk themselves and get infected.

Everyone still called and asked what happened, instead of saying something... anything useful.

Even Ramita’s cousin sisters, whom she was very close to, didn’t give their heart and soul for their uncle, who would do that, if something would befall them. One just posted an Instagram story to ask for oxygen cylinders, as Amol’s oxygen level was also dropping, while the other sent positive quotes, which just enraged Ramita even more.

Ramita’s colleague and a brother like figure, Ashraf, was the only one constantly in touch with her. He had come to give food to them in the afternoon, so that they don’t starve because of excessive running around.

This was someone, who was not even blood related to her, yet did so much for her.

As evening approached, so did a more sinking feeling in Ramita’s heart. Something was telling her that an uneventful event was about to strike their family. Amol had now started panting and wheezing. Amrita kept rubbing his back, while Ramita frantically called every hospital she could, to find a bed and admit her father. She changed his drips but after a while, it stopped dropping down. She panicked and called the compounder and frantically asked him to guide her. As luck would have it, he couldn’t guide her as she was unable to understand how to operate it. She hurriedly called Dr. Chandrakant but he kept cutting her calls. So, she called his clinic, only to find that he was left with his wife overnight to their native place. How true this was, Ramita couldn’t understand.

Nevertheless, she kept asking her friend circle to help her find a bed, and all of them kept trying for her. She called every hospital, far and near, just for one bed.

When nobody answered affirmatively, she called the police. They even came to her house, but just to say, they can’t help.

Amrita was calm throughout and after an hour’s struggle, one of her colleagues arranged for an ambulance.

By the time the ambulance came, Amol’s pulse started dropping. A frantic Ramita called her neighbours for help in picking up her father and placing him on the stretcher because as fate would have it, the ambulance drivers refused to put the patient on the stretcher, by simply saying, “It’s not our job.” Since Ramita’s priority was her dying father and not the Jail, she decided to not murder anyone and keep her boiling rage under control and begged them to please take her father till the ambulance.

One neighbour, equipped with gloves and mask, helped in keeping Amol on the stretcher. Ramita hoped that the neighbour would accompany them to the hospital, but instead, he just went back home.

Amol had fallen unconscious by then.

Amrita and Ramita kept praying for a miracle to happen. Amol was clinging to his life. He was unconscious, but breathing.

They reached a nearby government hospital. Amrita ran to the emergency and unbeknown to her daughter, she wailed and fell on the feet of the doctors to please admit her ailing husband. Ramita would rather let her father die than make him live on the mercy of begging someone. A lady doctor took mercy upon Amrita and decided to admit her husband. Ramita immediately went to the nearby pharmacy shop and bought gloves and masks for both of them.

Since it was a government hospital, it didn’t have very good amenities.

Amol didn’t have any blanket or pillow. So, Ramita called her cousin and asked her for some, since she did not have enough time to go back home and bring something with her. They did not own any vehicle.

But her sister’s mother picked up the phone and said, “Sorry beta, but my husband has slept and I can’t drive.”

Heartbroken, Ramita then called Ashraf and he immediately rushed with pillows and blankets for her. But he didn’t stay too long as his father too was having high fever. But he assured her that he was just a phone call away.

Ramita placed the pillow under her father’s head and put a blanket lovingly on him.

She kept trying for a hospital the whole night as the doctor in charge had already cautioned her that her father’s situation was delicate and that he needed a ventilator immediately...

She called and called all night…But around 3 am, she heard her mother wailing. And something sank at the pit of her stomach.

She ran to her father’s bedside and saw his face, unconscious, but body still. His hands were cold and so were his feet. His eyes were frozen.

Amrita wailed and begged the doctors to do something. But one bespectacled doctor, merely smirked at her and said, “Please get a hold on yourself. We can’t do anything. It’s best that you accept the reality.”

His junior came to take the ECG and he said, “Sorry ma’am, but he’s now brain dead. There’s nothing we can do.”

BRAIN DEAD???? NO! Ramita wanted to scream. Beat her father’s chest till he woke up again. Inject that doctor with snake venom for laughing at his grieving mother. But… Something came over her.

She, in an alarmingly calm tone said, “Now that he’s dead, would you at least bother to cover his face? Or you’re not done laughing yet?”

The doctor didn’t react but merely shrugged his shoulders while his junior covered Amol. Ramita took her wailing mother from the emergency and made her sit at a bench outside. The janitor then took her to the third floor, wherein all the paperwork and formalities were to be done. She did the paper work diligently. She made arrangements for her father’s body to be kept in the mortuary, signed every paperwork and took her broken, shattered and grieving mother back home.

In just one night, the world had turned upside down for these women.

Amrita informed Amol’s relatives and her relatives (who resided in Bhopal). Ramita informed her friends, who, just like her, kept calling every hospital they could, for her father. She thanked them and asked them to stay safe and not come near her at least for the time being, as she had stayed in a COVID hospital the whole night. She couldn’t place the burden of her expectations on people anymore. She was selfless, but now, couldn’t even accept a glass of water from anyone without feeling that she has been burdened by their generosity.

Amol’s family immediately started calling and consoling Amrita and Ramita. But, funnily, nobody came to see them. Ramita’s colleague brother, Ashraf and Amrita’s colleague, Rahul, who had arranged for the ambulance, came to see them immediately. A weeping Amrita sat outside the mortuary while Ramita signed all the documents to release her father’s body.

Ashraf arranged for Amol’s body to be taken to the nearest COVID crematorium. He paid for all the expenses and did not let any of the women feel stranded and alone. Ramita waited for her turn at the crematorium. When it came, Rahul and Ashraf laid the logs of wood on Amol’s body, while Ramita still looked at it, trying to see if it was breathing. The body was sealed, so she couldn’t make it out.

She then lit the funeral pyre and recited the mantras which the pandit asked her to repeat after him. Generally, ladies are never allowed in a crematorium, but COVID broke the stereotype and Ramita turned around to see hundreds of bodies burning around her. Some pyres were lit by children… as young as 7 or 8.

She felt a little envy as majority of them had 20-30 people per family at a pyre. While her father’s had her, her mom and their two colleagues. But she felt grateful that she had at least two faithful people with her at that time of the hour. Dizzy, exhausted and hungry, they bade farewell to their colleagues and went home. In a fit of rage, Ramita shattered the Oximeter to the floor and it shattered to pieces. The house was just as they had left it. The drips hanging near the bed. The kitchen messed up. The house felt empty. Soulless. Ramita craved for someone’s shoulder to cry on. For someone to caress her hair. For someone to be there for her. But it was just her mom and her for each other. All flights to and from Delhi were running full, so Amrita’s family, which was shattered, couldn’t fly to see them. Ramita asked them to stay back as she didn’t want more deaths to haunt their family.

They remained like Zombies. Hardly eating anything and getting panic attacks every now and then. They made some instant noodles and survived on fruits and coffee other than it.

The next day, they went to the crematorium to collect ashes. This time, they didn’t call anyone. But humanity often shines in the toughest of times. The families who had come with tens of their members, saw these two women alone and they, without even asking, came to help them. Ramita and Amrita heartily thanked them and then they went to immerse Amol’s ashes in Garhganga. On the way back in the cab, they received innumerable phone calls, asking them what they are going to do next, how they are going to earn (even after knowing that Amrita had been a banker for 25 years) and some even had the audacity to ask if Amrita would now get her daughter married off as a burden would now fall off her shoulder, now that her husband was also not there to “decide for her”.

Too exhausted to react, Ramita just looked outside the window for some fresh air. Wondering, why this incident happened to their family? What did life have in store for them? How many more such cruel incidents awaited people’s families now?

Ramita’s story mirrors what many people went through during the second wave of COVID. Some were blessed and fortunate enough to find helping hands, while others, just like Amol’s family, was left to fend for themselves. What was funny in this whole ordeal was that nobody was interested in talking about facts. About how the medical facility collapsed in the National Capital. How lakhs of families suffered with no fault of theirs. How doctors, immune to deaths, became insensitive beasts to others’ pain and tears. How loving relatives treated their own infected family members like untouchables and maintained a distance…a distance long enough to sever relations. Nothing could ever be normal again. Perhaps, that is the new normal. But in this new normal too, one cannot stop hoping. Hope is what keeps life going on. Hope and humanity can come in the forms of Ashraf and Rahul and those people at the crematorium. But resilience and at times, a good control over emotions, at the most vulnerable of times, can take one through any situation, calmy and composedly…While the COVID marred people with heartbreaks, trust issues, loss and helplessness, it also brought out, within many, a sense of selflessness, hope, resilience and faith… faith that life won’t be this cruel again.

By Ramya Sundara Raman