30 years on, Roman holiday that was not to be

Covid-19 has changed the world, people, their thoughts and priorities. Like everyone, we feel the lockdown pressures yet we try to stay cheerful and positive.

For a retired couple like us, things have not changed much. Since we both have each other to ourselves, our routine remains almost the same; we are content keeping a balance between ‘me time’ and ‘we time’, reading and writing, having discussions about things happening around; and enjoying doing chores together.

Though a little worried about our own health and well-being, most of the time my thoughts go out to people who have actually been hit by the coronavirus, including those fighting with the disease; families who have lost their dear ones; people who have been rendered jobless and homeless and are facing a bleak, uncertain future.

As the pandemic started spreading its tentacles, taking the whole world into its grip, everyone watched with bated breath as the most powerful countries became hotspots and epicenters of the disease, proving the powerlessness and vulnerability of the human species. Gradually, I could relate to the people all over the world; as pain, suffering, and death bring us closer and unite humanity.

We had been planning a trip to Rome, Italy, in April; a wish that I had nurtured for more than three decades. It was like a dream-come-true and for months I had been surfing the internet excitedly to find out the places to visit; food to enjoy, shopping to be done, and whatnot. But then corona, the spoilsport, made the whole world huddle into self-isolation, and our plan had to be shelved.

When images and videos from different countries started pouring in, it was sad to see the places which had been bubbling with revelry and festivity, suddenly gone desolate and deserted, filled with a spooky silence and ubiquitous uneasiness. No doubt all major countries were feeling the heat, but because Italy had been on my mind, watching the pictures of those very places that I was to visit, now standing forlorn and forsaken by frightened citizens, gave me a lump in the throat. “Oh! We would’ve been there, there and there!”

My heart went out to the people there. Millions afflicted, thousands dead. Ambulances hooting around; masked medicos taking care of patients; the whole nation in shock. Long rows of coffins awaiting burial left me teary-eyed. I could empathise with them, feel their pain, and pray for them.

Maybe I would have crossed paths with some of them during my visit, at some monument, or a mall or a restaurant. Maybe some of them would have smiled at me with ‘Ciao, come stai (Hello, how are you)’, and in return, I would have mumbled a shy hello. Who knows!

Corona will be over, God willing, but it will take some time for things to normalise for tourist activities to resume. To be honest, at this point I no longer want to go there. Today Rome for me doesn’t stand for The Vatican, Colosseum, Pantheon or Spanish Steps, but for its people with whom I could have an unspoken emotional connection. The very mention of the name would always remind me of these times and my love, sympathy, and prayers for its people. It feels as I have already been there. After all, Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam: The world is one family.

I COULD RELATE TO PEOPLE ALL OVER THE WORLD. PAIN, SUFFERING, AND DEATH BRING US CLOSER AND UNITE HUMANITY