Page 178 - SARAHANA

I GN O R AN CE 1 78

It’s nearly been ten days since then. I remember that day
when I helped a friend with his luggage. He wasn’t a ver y
close friend of mine, but he was close to my roommate. I
didn’t really know why I helped him with that back then. Was
it because he was a friend? Or, because I was more conscious
of the fact that I would be missing company here? Maybe. He
booked his ticket to B engaluru in a hurr y. He asked me
earlier that day, “Aren’t you going home, Saurav? ” I replied

in the negative.

The exams had been cancelled just the previous day because
of the pandemic. The pandemic had indeed ravaged cities,
infesting populations by the tens of thousands ever yday in
India. It was a slowly brewing disaster. The only
misprediction here was how much worse it could become.
Ever ybody was caught unprepared for the havoc wreaked
by the SARS-CoV-2 virus, (in)famously known as the novel
coronavirus and its various mutant siblings.

As I was busy preparing for my exams in the corner of my
room, preparing intensely to clear the 1st semester
examinations, I was caught unawares by the gravity of the
situation. Instagram was f looded with posts asking for help,
pointing at the helplessness of the medical system in
India. People were running riot to save the lives of their
loved ones, ready to sacrifice anything, including their own
lives. The countr y started to become deprived of both
medical and metaphorical oxygen.

What worried me the most is how, when social
distancing was required the most; when quarantine of
patients was required to prevent further transmission of the
disease, these desperate people were tr ying their best to save
the lives of their loved ones by ironically risking it all; the
caretakers of those infected by this virus are in constant
contact with the patients. But they are helpless. If I were in a
similar situation, would I do the same despite being aware of
the consequences? I probably would.