Yesterday, the day started out well and the pal of monotony was broken by messages from some old and dear friends. Two of them called too and we had longish voice chats that cheered me up and, hopefully, the other side too. However as my wife and I were going to call it a day after dinner, the bolt from the blue came. My cousin called and enquired if I had received the bad news. When I replied in the negative, he broke the news of the death of a nephew, my elder sister's eldest son, at the hands of the dreaded virus.
It is the kind of news that makes one go numb both in the limbs and the mind. Everything is frozen to a standstill in that moment. Then, gradually, a door opens in the mind letting in a swarm of memories, like furious bees, and the mind flails around, stung by them, till it drops down in sheer exhaustion. The cycle repeats itself, mercifully in diminishing intensity and finally it all dies down and sheer stupor prevais.
An analogy arises in the mind. I am at the head of a queue for check-out and someone far behind me loses his patience at my slowness in proceeding and jumps the queue. It leaves me with the feeling that I used to get in my younger days when I had a recurrent nightmare which will leave me paralyzed and unable to breathe and just as I got to the verge of desperation, I would wake up perspiring with a jolt and a sharp breath. I despair at the curse of having to watch someone to go, when it should have been the other way round.
There was a long age gap between my elder sister and me. My nephew, his pet name was Guddu, was born in my parents' home when I was in the tenth standard and about 13 years of age. I vividly recall my brother-in-law visiting us and beaming with pleasure as he held Guddu. Guddu had inherited the firmness and some of the strictness of his father and in him I saw an image of my brother-in-law. Both my elder sister and the brother-in-law had passed away a few years ago.
Guddu was being attended upon in the hospital by his wonderful son, an MBBS, who insisted upon remaining in the hospital clad with an PPE all the time! And though the exhaustion and utter lack of sleep were getting to him, he sounded happy at his dad's improvement only a couple of days ago. And then everything fell apart.
Guddu is survived by his son, wife and two daughters. My heart bleeds as I pray for them to be given the strength to bear this terrible loss. Dear Guddu, may you find peace and love as you are united with your parents. Hari Om Tatsat.
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