New Delhi

Living the pandemic in New Delhi

Isha Singhal

CW: This article discusses COVID-19 and related circumstances including resource shortages and death.

“I can’t wait to see you soon”

These were the words of my friend, as I hugged her goodbye at her birthday.

“Soon, as long as these rising cases don’t become an issue”, I said, although I didn’t really mean it.

COVID-19 was here to stay and we just had to live with it. As long as we wore masks and maintained our distance, we would be fine.

I was wrong, I underestimated the wrath of COVID. We all like to think COVID has affected us and pushed us in some ways, but I’ve learnt it’s really naïve to think we’ve been pushed to the maximum.

On Sunday the 18th of April, I woke up to the news that my home football field was being shut due to the recent rise in cases. I was devastated. The place I had spent three hours every day for almost seven years was being closed. Lots of thoughts crossed my mind - when would I be able to meet friends, would I be able to kick around again, or would I, just like last year, become a lazier version of myself sitting at home?

I was naïve, naïve to think that this was the most devastating effect the pandemic had to offer.

That evening, three of my friends tested positive for the virus. This was when the virus really started to hit close to home. The next day, all my social media went dark. I couldn’t see anything on people’s Instagram stories, except cries for help written in white text on the black background. People desperately needed oxygen, ICU beds, essential medicines, medical services and much more. Alas, there was a shortage everywhere. I can remember including the entire country and by extension the entire world, in my prayers.

The number of my friends who tested positive for the virus increased to five, and then more, and more until it grew to numbers beyond which I could count.

I knew I had to do something. I began assisting people who needed resources by contacting hospitals and collating resource documents. People would message me their needs and I would help amplify them and source them.

bed. I was able to get a friend’s dad a hospital

hope.

However in doing so, one day, I found myself asking the question I would never let anyone ask themselves. By helping someone find a resource, was I taking this resource away from someone else? Perhaps from a poorer individual, who may not be able to mobilise resources as well? I shuddered and brushed those thoughts away. Yet they still plague me at the back of my mind.

However, nothing really pushes you to the brink than seeing the world around you crumble. I found it hard to sleep some nights, as I kept hearing ambulance sirens run up and down the street.

At least that means someone’s getting help, I would think.

That, right there, was my first symbol of

Having a positive mindset is the best way to keep oneself well. The next day, I learnt that my former camp roommate, the daughter of a single mother, lost her mum. She would have to move, manage her finances and her entire life by herself now. It’s amazing how fast your life can change. It was the fourth death to hit me this week. Then, two friends from my debating team at school lost their granddad, and my six-year-old neighbour who used to sit behind me on the bus lost his father.

You see before this, death was just a statistic. But when it happens to people you know, death is everything. It is a state of emptiness and a defining point in your life - both at once.

All I wanted to do that day was hug my mother. I knew I couldn’t, as she was still at the hospital, where she works as a doctor. When she finally came home, adorned head to toe in PPE, I pestered her to shower quickly. Afterwards, as I hugged her tight, I suddenly broke into tears.

“Why is all of this happening?” I asked her, looking at her with the pleading eyes of a young child.

She tries to reassure me. I realise how much death she must have seen in her life.

How do doctors do it? I thought to myself.

Perhaps they become numb over time. Numbness, that’s a state I can reach, I told myself. Was that a good thing? Another thought I shook away.

“If you don’t separate your emotions from things, you’ll never be able to do anything”, said my mother as she looked me in the eye.

“If the soldiers are down, they cannot take care of their country”.

These words stuck with me.

All these realisations become even more fascinating when you think about them in a global and social context. We all read about how death is universal, it affects everyone, but is death really equal? I think about those that live in rural areas where access to infrastructure is restricted. I think about those who cannot afford to pay exorbitant amounts for essential resources. I think of those limited by age, income and disability, and consequently cannot afford to socially distance from others. Are their deaths more than the deaths of the greater privileged, like me? I think back to my mother’s words. The sad truth is that they probably are. But what can we do about it? Focus on the solution rather than the problem.

What would make this situation better? Almost immediately, vaccines pop into my head. If more and more people were vaccinated they would be safe. But unfortunately, if developed nations like Australia are struggling to get vaccines, how would a country like India, which needs to vaccinate far more people to reach a safe level, get enough?

The patent surrounding the COVID-19 vaccine has been in the news a lot. India and South Africa recently wrote to the WTO about removing the vaccine patent. However, some of the more developed nations such as the USA, the UK, the EU, Australia and Japan remain opposed to the bid. As a science student, I appreciate the amount of research and development that has gone into the creation of the vaccine.

Yet when is a global health crisis, is it justifiable to put profits over lives?

The government of India finally opened vaccination to all people above the age of 18, but I can’t help but wonder if I get vaccinated, am I taking the vaccine from a more vulnerable person that might need it? I’m blessed with no pre-existing health condition and am quite young in age. Is it right of me to take the shot when people are dying because of acute shortages?

What this situation has taught me, is that when you’re truly on the brink of things, you’re faced with difficult decisions and difficult questions, with no easy answers. It is an unfamiliar space, where suddenly everything is called into perspective and the meaning of everything changes. You learn a lot about yourself too. Sometimes, you may think you are on the brink of things, but often you are stronger than you think you are.