No, I’m scared.
Scared of everything.
Yes, Everything.
For the past three weeks, I’ve forgotten how to laugh,
I’m losing my emotions like people are losing their loved ones.
I cannot look at the phone, it keeps bringing horrors –
imagine waking up to death, it’s becoming my wake-up call now.
I’m scared when there’s a call.
I’m scared when I turn on the TV.
I’m scared to look at life outside my window.
Even a rock would make a sound when thrown,
I’m now beyond that rock,
I’ve surpassed its hardness,
and I’ve lost,
lost people,
lost hope in the government,
lost hope in humanity.
It’s just the second wave now,
how many will be gone by the next?
Gone like the trust we had built on our health system.
Ok, I don’t want to play the blame game now.
People have started making jokes on death,
yes, and I did laugh at one of them.
No, it wasn’t laughter laughter, but just laughter without any intent.
I’m scared to breathe now.
I’ve begun to wear a mask inside my house.
I’m scared of my own breath.
It’s heart-wrenching to see people dying without oxygen, beds, medicine.
Kids, youths, elders all succumbing.
I’m scared if I would too.
I asked the question last year and
I still haven’t got a reply.
I ask it this time too–
are your gods still there?
Please tell me, I need them,
I need them for you, I need them for us.
If they can make one person survive,
I’ll never cuss at them again.
I’ll never call them ‘stones’.
I’ll offer whatever they ask for.
A son lost his mother who died in his arms gasping for breath.
This is just one son –
imagine 200,000 reported and many more unreported,
sons, daughters, fathers, mothers – humans, dead.
I can’t think anything without death now,
something hurts when I hear the word ‘Positive’,
It’s killing me, you and all.
The rich, the poor, all stand in the same line at the crematorium.
After all, all we become is ash.
I cannot say when this virus will stop,
it’s spreading worse than a wildfire.
I’m getting nightmares.
All the dead people I know are walking together,
holding each other’s hands,
smiling.
Leaving behind all their tears to us.
I’m quite not in a stable farm of my mind.
Every call just tells me how small my circle is becoming,
how small the world is becoming.
I’m in tears while writing this line, tears of fear.
It’s painful when people tell me of their pain,
crying to me while all I attempt to do is stay silent because
I don’t want to give them false hope by saying “I’m there”.
Nowadays, I find myself smiling when I hear someone’s death.
I’m scared of what I’m becoming,
I’m scared about the world,
I’m scared for this life.
Can we all restart this life?
Dinesh Krishna, is not a proud engineer and is a so-called Urban Naxal by thoughts and on Twitter.
Featured image credit: John Hain/Pixabay