The day dawned blue. And then, slowly as the afternoon moved into evening, the blue was enveloped by dark, cool clouds. Then the rain. The wind rustled in, eager to make its own mark.
I stood on the terrace, gathering the clothes I had hung out to dry and breathed in. The green. The earth. The skies.
And that one moment, I could feel the air gush into my lungs, and I felt incredibly grateful that I have this at all.
Our life is beautiful. Precious. Beautiful. Wondrous. Filled with awe.
Today was a more difficult day for me. I woke up fine, but found myself a bit out of breath in the morning as I went up and down the stairs. The afternoon post-lunch I don’t remember at all. I just remember falling on the bed and woke up hours later.
I would give anything for human touch right now. Just a clasp of the hand. A hand on the shoulder. Someone ruffling my hair.
Meanwhile, at the hospital, my Mom is regaling tired doctors and nurses with her own brand of positivity. She chatters on about everything that catches her attention. How the staff don’t have time to have lunch or breakfast. She keeps urging them to sit down for a little while and eat something. I listen to her, and I see everything that I admire in her: her spirit of life and a remarkable ability to endure without suffering.
Susheela continues to be on oxygen support. The doctors worry about moving her to an ICU, but there are no ICUs available. She is struggling with anxiety – extreme high levels of anxiety that are preventing her from eating and sleeping, leading to a further depletion in oxygen levels. The search for Remdesivir is on, but I have found only a blackmarket rate of Rs 16,000 per vial. “Need at least 6 vials,” the doctors say. When people profit from suffering, it makes me angry. Very angry. How many people in India can afford to spend more than Rs 100,000 for 6 vials? This country is supposed to be the world’s pharmacy, the largest vaccine manufacturer, and the hub of the global pharmacy industry. How did we get to this stage? I cast my mind back to the same Saturday last week – and I shake my head at how my life has unraveled in a week’s time.
Thoughts like this run through my mind. I try to read but I can’t seem to focus on a page. Yet, the birds sing. The squirrels chirp. There’s music outside. I will listen to that music and it will calm my heart.