A loss at god’s place
By Shubhangijain
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There is a poem by Maggie Smith, called “Good Bones”, the end of it goes something like
“… Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.”
How do we prepare for what’s coming when we don’t even know what to look for? Every day a new obstacle. Every day, wake up to something terrible happening in this, less-hopeful, religiously degrading, and blame-forcing world. The past couple of years has been eye-opening, to say the least, in terms of love, family, education, health, life, and especially death. The permanence of death is something we were all aware of, but the reality of it is what scared us. Over six million people died during the detrimental, occurring, and reoccurring, a pandemic of covid-19. It was the end of the world as we knew it and no one knew how to cope with it. Coronavirus disease-19 (COVID-19), which caused severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS-CoV-2), had spread worldwide, posing a significant health hazard. A two-wave pattern of reported cases has been seen in several countries, The first wave in India began in the first quarter of the year 2020 which led to a nationwide lockdown. The second wave happened later in the year which lasted for more than six months and with worse symptoms. Every month new symptoms were being identified, every day a new tactic was released to deal with it, and every breath was taken in covers. Every death seemed like a personal tragedy, a personal loss. Even when we were at home, safe, trying not to get infected, trying to decline this horrible invitation of death that was just standing at our doors. But we had the privilege of sitting at home, unlike a lot of other professionals who were burdened with the jobs of saving us, protecting us, and making sure that we survive. Of course, the loss of human life merely became a statistic by the end of the second wave but the humans trying to help get a different status. Sometimes they were Gods, other times they were the devil. Which is where we went wrong, right? They aren’t gods or devils. They were just trying to save us. All of us. And what did we do to them? Doctors and nurses and all the first responders, who stayed away from their own families to take care of yours were held responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths. Hazmat suits and 48-hour shifts, breathing through those terrible PPE kits in the horrible heat and just trying their best, hoping some of us survive, and at a great personal cost at that. It wasn’t risky only for them but also for their families because at the end of the day they were the ones coming in contact with the responders. So many of them lost their lives fighting this disease and as if that wasn’t enough, some of us made sure that they feel the impact of someone else’s death as well. So many wanted to quit, just spend time with their families but how could they? They had us to protect. They still do. Not just during covid but at every chance they get. Every news cycle there is some information reporting that we lost some health-worker to suicide or were tortured because they weren’t able to save someone’s family member, being well aware that there is only so much they can do. So, when does this stop? When do they get to feel safe around us? When do we realize that we can’t always find someone to blame? Especially when that someone is as much of a human as the rest of us. Don’t you think it is time for us to give them the respect they deserve, honor their sacrifice, and make sure they feel safe as well?
