A box of letters, all several pages long. Letters from my father, my friends...a couple of them from my grandfather, written in a script I'm still pretty much alien to. Some photographs, of roadside picnics and me climbing trees. A photograph of my mother...black and white and somewhat yellow...the pigtailed girl in the picture looks nothing like Maa, except for her super curly hair and her impish smile, both of which have remained the same. A pocket phonebook with alphebetical tabs, contacts that have confined themselves to the phonebook,but vanished otherwise. My slam book (I wonder whether my ten year old facebook savvy niece has ever heard of a slam book) from high school...the pages bear testimony to our fervent attempts at being "cool." Friendship bands tumble out in a tangle of fibres and colours, and I fail to remember who tied which one. My "School Captain" badge, rusty and worn. The dupatta from my uniform, crumpled and spotty and yellowed...scribbled all over...parting notes from people I won't meet for years to come. An email printout I still remember every word of...a single blue earring, the other one of the pair lost in the jumble of time. And I realise it's no point trying to look for it anymore after all.
This morning, while on a phone call with my mother to check up on a family friend admitted in hospital with Covid-19, my mother happened to casually remark –“He is on ventilator since the past few days, you know how they simply keep patients on ventilators anyway for days on end…” I immediately retorted, “What do you mean, they keep patients on ventilators? You think they have any other choice when dealing with a critical patient?” This off the cuff remark, however casual, just reflected the deep mistrust most of people in this country have for doctors, especially the ones who practice allopathic medicine. Following the surge of Covid cases in India this year, the ICUs filled up fast and quick, more rapidly than anyone was prepared for. What we witnessed was no less than a tragedy of epic proportions unfolding before our very eyes, on our TV screens- or as far as doctors are concerned- everyday at work. That we were unprepared is no secret, and amidst the cries calling for acc...
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