Saved by the known angel from the unknown devil

It’s often said that a known devil is better than an unknown angel. But here I was face to face with an unknown devil, known only for wreaking havoc across the globe. A Covid-positive report shocked me initially but soon transformed me into a different individual, for whom everything in the world had suddenly become meaningless. Perhaps my mind was preparing itself for the voyage ahead.

I wistfully took a last look at my house, while hearing the loud siren of the ambulance that had come to pick me up. The streets and buildings of the city passed by in quick succession as the van raced past at a breakneck speed. However, my gaze was fixed upon the face of my spouse sitting beside me, gently stroking my hair and desperately trying to hide her worries. For a moment I thought of all those people who never came back from the hospitals. Even their bodies were not shown to their kin and the sealed body bags were straightaway sent for cremation. No one attended their funerals. The thought was natural: “Will I be treated in the same way?” But the firm resolve in the eyes of the lady sitting beside me assured me that I shall not be alone in my last journey at least.

In the hospital, I lay lonely, staring at the false ceiling, thinking wasn’t everything of the world, including relationships, money, name, and fame false like the ceiling that hid the rough realities behind a plush exterior? Many such thoughts came and went as the nurses struggled to find veins on my arms for inserting cannulas. Thereafter for a week, all I could see were the saline bottles getting emptied drop by drop. There was no hunger, no thirst, no energy, and frankly no will to live.

The ship of life was sinking. Only the oxygen mask on the face testified that I was still breathing. I could also see some oxygen masks being pulled away as the doctor shook his head with the stethoscope still dangling from the ears. Wails could be heard from a distance after the stretchers carrying the dead were wheeled out stoically, silently, mechanically.

As relatives weren’t allowed in the wards, my better half walked up and down the corridors, praying and looking out for me whenever I was wheeled out for going to the bathroom.

After a week of dangling between life and death, I was sent home with a saline bottle still hanging over my head. Strict instructions to keep me quarantined were soon forgotten. The lady of the house took all the nursing care upon herself. Timely administering of drugs, forcing me to have the soups and juices at regular intervals, and escorting me to the bathroom were her prime concerns. It was futile to ask her to keep a safe distance. Her labour of love fructified as I started taking baby steps on my own in a few weeks.

When I asked her if she wasn’t afraid of getting infected, her reply was, “Do you know what you promised me last year? You promised to gift me something most loved by me at our 50th wedding anniversary. It’s our golden jubilee year. How could I let go of my most valuable gift?”

I was startled when she added, “Aur waise bhi main aapke bina jee kar kya karti?’(Even otherwise how could I have lived without you?)”.

A COVID-POSITIVE REPORT SHOCKED ME INITIALLY BUT SOON TRANSFORMED ME INTO AN INDIVIDUAL FOR WHOM EVERYTHING HAD SUDDENLY BECOME MEANINGLESS