In the memories of my maternal grandpa, a Covid warrior:
Late Shri Shiv Kumar Sharma…
It was 21st of June 2020 when I last spoke to my
maternal grandpa. He was admitted in the hospital. When I told him about my
love towards writing, he blessed me and said that I will become a successful writer
one day… I never knew that it was the last day to hear his kind words.
As the year 2020 started, my family members were very joyous
and elated. In the month of January my maternal grandparents’ house was newly built
and they were about to shift, which was to be followed by maternal uncle’s
marriage. On the other hand I was blessed with a newly born brother, in
February. There were several parties and inauguration that took place and it
seemed to be the happiest year. My younger maternal uncle was engaged and was
to be married soon. Unfortunately, Covid-19 was spread by then and due to lockdown
we all were stuck in our homes. Hence, his marriage got delayed.
Late in June when government announced unlock-one people
started wandering outside, my maternal family became a victim of Covid-19. The
eleven members along with some tenants were suffering. My mom was totally
bounded because of my little brother, as he was only three months old. She
wanted to go there desperately to take care of my Nana and Nani but had no
choice. My elder uncle was in a very critical condition too and to motivate his
spirits I wrote a short poem on his achievements. My maternal grandpa was a diabetes
patient and he was not able to either taste or smell. Early in the morning my
maternal grandpa’s health turned gravely critical and he was hospitalized. It
was very sudden and everyone else was also severely unwell. My mother called him daily in the hospital to
ask for his wellbeing. Though no one was allowed in the Covid ward but my
younger maternal uncle was keeping a track and was meeting him from a distance.
The other day we got to know that he was recovering, as he took bath himself
and could walk without support, this relieved us a bit. The other day on 22nd
of June his situation worsened, suddenly. He needed support to walk and he did
not talked to anyone. In the evening we received a very shocking and immensely
sorrowful news that he was physically no more… At that point of time I was
completely numb, my mom busted into tears and no one could digest that he left
us.
My mother rushed to my maternal grandparents’ house. I and
my father had to take care of my six year old sister and three months old
brother. It was very difficult for my mom to convince everyone to take
medicines as no one was willing to eat even a single bite of food. My Nana
always stood beside in every relative’s joyous or sorrowful moments, no matter
they were near or far. There was a guilt of not being physically present with
him when he needed us the most.
On the other hand, I was
supposed to make my younger sister sit for her online classes. I and my father
had to be awake whole night, we were managing food by our own, as my mother was
dedicated to recover her parental family from the disease. We all were sinking
in a big drift to survive. I had to manage my studies along with assuring my
little brother’s need. It was like a nightmare. Every time we recall my
maternal grandpa’s memories we become more emotional and are left with tears. My
mom came back after fifteen days when everyone was cured. She was isolated in a
different floor to keep us safe. We all were overwhelmed to see her after a
long emotional trauma. Afterwards everything seemed better but no one has mentally
recovered till now.
Today, whenever I feel my Nanu’s presence, I wear the green
coat which he had specially bought for me just a few days prior when he left us
forever...
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