A poignant poem about death due to Corona, by Dr. Amrinder, exclusively for Different Truths.

What sort of dying is this?
Solitary, silent, in isolation wards
Without a glimpse of your loved ones
Each breath a gasp, as you desperately
Clasp, the ‘hand of God’
A glove filled with warm water that,
A thoughtful nurse put in your hand
For a final, comforting illusion.

What sort of death is this?
When your own, fear the contagion you carry?
Zipped up in bags, by impersonal hands
You are carried in the hospital hearse, by
Men, afraid to lose their jobs, if they refused;
Straight from the mortuary to the pyre.
Where, but a handful of relatives gather
And bribe, to make haste with the funeral fire.

What sort of mourning is this?
With no beloved’s body to cry over,
No friend, no neighbour, sister, cousin
With, not a single shoulder to cry upon
Not a soul, to help you vent and tide over
The initial deluge of unbearable grief,
To offer solace and emotional closure,
For Corona has branded you too.

What sort of prayer meeting is this?
Over Zoom! Goodness! To what use
Has technology been put!
When earlier, there’d be funeral feasts
And for years, the family, would boast
Of the crowd that gathered to
Make speeches, eulogise and,
Pay homage to their deceased.

Visual by Different Truths

Dr. Amrinder Kaur Bajaj

Dr Amrinder Kaur Bajaj is a senior gynaecologist, an award-winning author, columnist, and poetess. She also writes editorials for newspapers like The Times of India, Tribune and India Express. At present, she is attached to FMRI (Fortis Memorial Research Institute) Gurgaon. She also teaches Minimally Access Surgery to national and international postgraduate doctors at The Medicity Gurgaon.

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