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My maternal grandmother died of sepsis last week.
Hailing from a family of nationally renowned Unani practitioners at Allahabad (all of them no more), she belonged to the fourth generation in the family tree. A reservoir of happiness, humbleness and generosity, brimming with joy at any point in time, with an unparalleled love for humans and humanity in general, I’ve always seen her living life with grandeur with her husband earlier, a nationwide respected Unani Physician and after his death in 2000, her sons.
Her eldest son, also a renowned Unani Physician passed away two years back. He was the last samurai of this clan spanning five eventful generations spreading over 153 years of remarkable service to the nation.
While in her final moments, a few hours before her imminent death, we frantically tried getting a cardiologist. The hospital she was admitted to in Allahabad was a rather small one at that and had her admitted only on the basis of its owner’s old relations with our family. Understandably then, the only doctor available there was just a mere physician with three nurses. No other hospital agreed to admit her unless she was a COVID patient, which she, in fact, wasn’t and none agreed to attend to her even after making numerous calls and endless requests. She eventually passed away.
Today, more than a week since her passing, as I write this, keeping the constant flashes of her smiling face in front of my eyes as personal grief, I’ve begun to comprehend this more as a wholesome reality of our times rather than just a singular moment of sorrow. No, I don’t intend to hold anyone responsible for my suffering but I do very well intend to outline the values we have collectively been brought up on. Or have developed in the process of our ‘multi-faceted advancements and supposed growth’. I mean, have we really grown in absolute terms or become more rotten to the core of our collective existence?
The helplessness and the vulnerability I experienced while dealing with this bereavement has been overwhelming, to say the least. It is experiences like these which make you realise who you really are and how strong your foundation –emotionally, physically and resourcefully – is, which otherwise you carelessly but flagrantly boast of. It is instances of such a disconcerting dilemma that make you acknowledge your weakness when you’re up against a situation tormented by humans first and then a nation of unenlightened political dimwits.
It is times like these which force you to think of what those who are not privileged enough, those who are migrants, those who are riot victims, those who’ve been out of the jobs for months now, would have been going through in similar situations where not only do they lack resources and financial stability but even attention and protection by the state with no means of their livelihood at that? No one’s up for them. A helping hand is nowhere to be seen.
There’s no comforting reassurance for them either. Even if there is one by the state, it (and history bears mute testimony to this) has eventually turned out to be utter farce leaving the unfortunates swinging in the middle to die. And at the expense of who or what? coronavirus? Congress? Rahul Gandhi? or better still, Nehru? If you anyhow find yourself blaming any or all of them for such sufferings in the times of this pandemic, I’d, with the highest possible respect and concern for your ignorant self, ask you to stay in your ideological and religious cocoon until one day, God forbid, you land up in a similar helpless position to learn your life’s true lesson.
It gradually but vehemently transposed our focus and attention from the core issues concerning the life and well-being of our citizens, the growth of our nation, to an issue such as a film actor’s suicide contributing much to the media’s orgasmic TRP and the nation's captured imagination since months now.
In our magnificent nation
You see, the nature of general discourse amongst us, the citizenry of our magnificent country, have stooped down to such a disturbing level where all we are witnessing and are actually discussing are the long beard of our leader, his picturesque simplicity of feeding a peacock, his infinitely ridiculous 'Mann ki Baat', the baseless Atmanirbharta, senselessly obnoxious rants of the finance minister, the divisive policies of our very own “Chanakya of modern times”, the fervour of right-wing radicalisation, the vilification of a woman by a rapacious media, the Islamisation of Bollywood, the previous birth of PM Modi and what not. I mean, from where do we get the audacity, the nerve, in such a light, to not only talk but boast about how well the country is being managed during this ‘Act of God’ and how we’re bouncing back impressively when the entire nation is on the periphery of cultural, economic and religious breakdown?
If I or my family, belonging to the privileged class, having resources to embark upon, contacts to utilise, money to spend and make all of them cater to my/my family’s luxury and not just necessities couldn’t avail one doctor, ONE DOCTOR, to attend to a dying family member, I shudder to think of the times we’re approaching ahead.
I grieve profusely on my grandmother’s death, more on my nation’s fall.
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