On A High

Oliver 

 “Attention; Air India Flight 479 to London will begin boarding shortly. Passengers are advised to have your boarding pass and identification ready. The inconvenience is deeply regretted.” 

Oliver gritted his teeth. That was the fourth time the exact same announcement was being made at the F2 boarding gate within the last hour. His patience was wearing thin. He’d never been late for a flight before, but this morning was different – he’d been feeling weird. His alarm didn’t go off, his coffee pot broke, his watch stopped working and his 4K Nike running shoes split from its quarter to the vamp! He wasn’t one of those who believed in the signs, but it was certainly too much of a coincidence – and he knew better than to ignore it. 

His phone rang and he picked up immediately, “Ma?” 

“Beta?” his mother’s voice was calming. “Kahan pohunche?” (transl.: “Son, where have you reached” in Hindi) 

“Reached the airport over an hour ago Ma,” he said, “but I’m still waiting for boarding.” 

“I know it’s not going to change your mind, but I’m still asking;” she was asking in that tone he knew all too well, “Is this trip really necessary?” 

“Ma, it’s only for a month, I promise I’ll be back soon.” 

“Not the answer.” 

“It isn’t a do or die, but he’ll be happy if I make it na?” 

“I guess you’re right,” she said, “Have you decided on the best-brother speech?” 

“I’ll think of something Ma,” he said. 

“Okay, take care then. Hope you had food.” There was a tiny delay in her voice and he picked up on it. 

“Ma?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Love you.” 

“Chal!” her miserably disguised laugh was warm and he smiled. 

“See you soon,” he disconnected. 

“Attention, passengers of Air India Flight 479 to London, the flight may have been delayed due to deteriorating weather conditions. The flight crew has arrived but the ground crew is yet to give us a go. Our new departure time is 23hours and 30 minutes.” A wave of disapproving sighs spread across the hall. He sighed and looked at his phone’s lock-screen. 27^th January, 2020, 10:45pm. 

Sonny was studying Art and he’d been out on his own ever since the divorce. The parents may not have parted on speaking terms but the brothers were close. So when his carried leaves came through, Oliver had planned to go see his brother – a month before he graduated from college. His phone vibrated twice and he picked it up to see the message. It was Sonny. 

Dude, the airports are closing here because of the whole virus thing. Are you sure you want to make it? 

Oliver frowned. Scanning his memory, he realized that the news recently had certainly been disturbing, but he’d assumed that it was one country’s problem and that it wouldn’t spread to where he was. Checking his flight status again and seeing the visible confusion on the faces of the crew members out front, he took a deep breath and cleared his mind. 

Ten minutes later, he was on a taxi – headed back home. Delhi was cold, but there wasn’t enough fog that day for the flight to be cancelled. His gut had told him that something was wrong; he’d just decided to trust it and had left the airport in a daze. His phone buzzed again and he opened the e-mail. It was from the airline. ‘We regret to inform you that your flight Air India 497 headed to London Heathrow from Indira Gandhi International Airport (T3) stands cancelled. It has been declared that all international flights to London will be resumed post the two weeks lockdown in the United Kingdom. You may apply for a full reimbursement or book another trip to London at no extra charge for the same cabin class.’ Oliver pursed his lips and sat back, looking out the window as an ambulance whooshed past him. He thought, ‘It isn’t even February and this year’s certainly off to a rotten start.’ 

Neema 

 An hour ago, as soon as she’d landed back at Chennai, there was an ambulance ready to take her to the hospital for a checkup. Now, Neema was in the isolation ward – being told to wait. They’d said something about an unknown virus seen among those returning from abroad and that she’d be required to cooperate with a checkup for the same before being allowed to go back home and quarantine for another week – all because she happened to have a connecting flight from Qatar. She was returning from the US after dropping off her mother at her newly married sister-in-law’s place in New York. Since she’d got only three weeks of approved and extended leave, Neema wanted to get back to work as soon as possible. 

“Ms. Iyer?” a small voice brought Neema back from her reverie. 

“Ah, yes.” Neema stood up and faced her visitor. 

“Here’s your report. I’d advise you to contact someone from home and inform them that you won’t be going home soon.” The small voice certainly made up for those harsh words. 

“But, why?” asked Neema, all confused. 

“You’ve tested positive for the COVID-19 virus.” 

“I don’t understand, I have no cough or the flu or fatigue,” shocked, Neema opened the brown envelope handed to her and checked her facts. Patient Name: Neema Iyer, Sex: Female, Specimen Type: Throat/Nasopharangeal Swab, Date of Testing: 7^th February, 2020 and Result: POSITIVE for 2019-nCOV. 

She felt her head spinning and nearly wobbled onto the bed. The nurse was keeping her distance and asked, “Are you alright?” 

Hurt, Neema looked at her and said, “I’m fine; I just need to make a phone call.” 

The Wi-Fi was strong and she’d immediately video called and informed her family overseas. They were worried at first, but then she assured them that she was taken care of. After all, she had everything with her – except the feeling of being at home. The authorities had told her that she needed to stay indoors and that there’d be an attendant who could provide her with food and other essentials, if the need arose. Reality however, was different. Neema was prepared to stay indoors and even work from the confines of the hospital but no-one had prepared her for the judgmental looks, the fear in the eyes of those who had no choice but to come near her and the masked disapproval from the hospital staff. She felt like an orphan who had been placed under the care of a strict child welfare service officer. Worried that she may not have long before an emotional outburst, she kept herself busy – she asked for acrylic paints, canvas, and some books and caught up on those long lost sleeping hours. Copious amounts of non-filter coffee, her newly discovered passion for curd rice and mango pickle, that multi-cuisine place across the hospital and the desire for a much needed self-vacation kept her going. Time dragged, but before she knew it, the time of testing had come around again. 

She took a deep breath and leaned back onto a chair at the lab. The nurse, heavily dressed in a PPE uniform stuck a cotton bud into her nose and Neema held her breath. Three weeks ago, she was told that it would be uncomfortable the first time but she was nervous this time too. 

“Thank you Madam,” said the staff and Neema smiled, wanly. She was ready, ready to see a negative report, ready to leave, ready to see the World outside, and ready to go home. 

Andrew 

 Thinking about turning over the ‘open’ side of the sign on the door to the ‘closed’ side, Andrew sighed. ‘21^st March, 2020’, he wrote the date on his daily cash register. For some reason, the announcement made by the Prime Minister actually had an effect on his community. Since a week, his usually jam packed one year old multi-cuisine diner had only seen dwindling crowds. He’d read that the new health concern was a virus that was possibly fatal to anyone who contracted it.  He’d even told his wife, “It would be best if people stay home,” without giving much thought into how his business might crumble. 

“Excuse me Sir,” a voice said, “Are you open?” 

He snapped himself back into the present, put on a smile and said, “Yes Ma’am, we’re open.” The young woman approaching the counter had a mask on and looked like she just finished a long shift from a tiring job. “What can we get you?” 

“A cup of strong coffee, a good muffin and some hot and spicy chicken noodles.” 

He smiled, “Pampering yourself?” 

She looked up and made a face, “Ugh. You don’t want to know.” 

He nodded at her and gestured towards the seats near the glass window, “Sit anywhere you’d like.” 

“Thanks!” She paused before sitting down, “Am I your last customer?” 

“Looks like it,” he said, glancing at the wall clock. It was half past eight. “The kitchen closes in half an hour. Guess you made it in time!” 

“And to think I would’ve stayed back for that last case,” she was shaking her head. Andrew wanted to stay and ask her about her occupation, but decided that food always came first and headed to the back of the diner with a curt, “Just a moment, I’ll be back.” 

Ten minutes later, Andrew bought over the steaming hot bowl of noodles, a muffin in a paper bag and the coffee in a temporary cup. She looked up from her phone in surprise and he said, “Just thought you may want to take this home.” 

“Yes, I may have forgotten to mention that ‘parcel’ part,” she said. He set a glass of water and a small pitcher in front of her as she wound up the noodles on her fork. He waited for her to take a bite. She did and her eyes closed for a few seconds, the expression he’d seen so many times before still made him stand half-an-inch taller. He frowned as he turned. He’d forgotten something else at her table. “This is great! But can I have some soy sauce to go with this?” 

“Ah, yes. Let me get that,” he said without turning, “some dry chili too?” 

“Yes, I’d love that,” the reply was eager and he wasted no time. 

“May I know what you do for a living?” he asked as the woman was paying for the meal, fifteen minutes later. 

“Oh, I’m a senior resident at the hospital around the corner,” she said. 

He glanced at his wife and nodded a bit when she met his gaze. She smiled and promptly put another muffin in the young woman’s paper bag. 

She gasped, “Oh, no, you didn’t have to do that!” 

His wife insisted, “Thank you for taking care of the rest of us humans all the time.” 

The young woman smiled warmly, “Thank you.” 

As she turned to leave, the woman looked at him again, “You should really think over the idea of going online and having a delivery service after these two weeks.” He stopped mid-typing and looked at the stranger. She continued, “You never know, you could very well end up being a savior to people like myself during these times. Good food does wonders to unloved, tired souls.” 

“Will keep this in mind,” he smiled as he took the tip she handed him and put it into the charity box on the counter. When his wife came up behind him, he said, “Are we ready for this?” He passed his phone to her. The Mann Ki Baat was happening again. 

She looked up at him, “We have to be.” He put his arm around her and wondered how a 21-day lockdown would go down in the Indian City That Never Sleeps. 

Henry 

 “Time of Death: 23^rd July, 2020, 18 hours and 37 minutes.” Henry wanted to storm outside the operation theatre and go home for the day. His headache from wearing that face shield all day yesterday still hadn’t gone and he still didn’t know what he would the tell the family of this 28-year-old young man. After all, he was just a senior resident doctor and he didn’t want to seem insensitive at such a time. People were still falling sick, the hospital beds were scarce and there was no time to sugarcoat the bad news. 

“Henry?” He looked up. The Chief Doctor was looking at him. 

“Yes Sir?” 

“Stop thinking; just do it.” 

“Right Sir,” he took a deep breath, ripped off his OT gear, sanitized his gloves and opened the door to the lobby. The boy’s parents had chosen not to come – it was his older brother at the door. 

“Doctor is he going to be okay?” the brother asked him and Henry felt the familiar pang of discomfort. 

He swallowed, “I’m sorry we tried our best…” 

“What went wrong?” the brother interrupted, his jaw tightening. 

“Your brother’s damaged lungs couldn’t breathe on their own and his heartbeat became irregular; after which he suffered a silent attack. We couldn’t do anything except try and resuscitate him. If you want to, we can put him on the…” 

“No, he’s already suffered enough,” the brother said and Henry nodded. He was kind of unsure if he, being a doctor should convince them that a ventilator wouldn’t really help a pneumonic, ex-chain smoker affected with Covid-19. He thanked the heavens for putting the thought into the brother’s head and paged the admission centre for the former patient’s release papers. 

Two hours later, as he sent off the brother on a cab, he thought about how the rains had held off this year in Bangalore. He felt someone tap his shoulder. He put up a hand defensively, ‘When are these people going to learn not to touch before speaking?’ he thought. 

“It’s me,” the familiar voice said. 

“Oh, you scared me,” he told his girlfriend of four years, Lisa. She was also like him, an academic resident, only she was posted at the Pediatric ward while he’d got Trauma. 

“Guess what happened?” Lisa was cheerful and it rubbed off on him. 

“What?” 

“A patient hit on Alan today!” she said. Alan was a male nurse from the Pediatric Department. 

His brows furrowed, “What?” 

She was giggling through her mask, “He thought Alan was a she!” She saw his puzzled look and elaborated, “He was in a PPE.” 

Henry’s eyes widened and he chuckled, “Poor Alan.” He guided her onto a less crowded hallway towards the lift. 

“Meh. He’s enjoying the attention, but the patient becomes red as a tomato every time he comes in.” 

 He burst into laughter, “Oh I’ll be down to see this soon.” She smiled and he noticed the sigh that almost immediately followed. “Speaking of hitting on someone, you thinking of getting our former flat-mate a wedding present?” 

She took a second, “Let’s just go see him after all this is over. I hear Hyderabad is nice this time of the year.” He nodded. 

“How is she?” he asked. Lisa turned to face him. 

“She’s holding on. I’ve not seen so much hope and strength for a long time.” Lisa was referring to a young woman who had contracted Covid-19 from a hospital and was now in isolation along with her prematurely born baby. “The worst part is we don’t even know if the baby will get it from her.” 

He gave her a nudge, “Ofcourse she won’t. The mom will be fine too.” 

“You aren’t supposed to say that.” 

“I know, because you’ll be there and you will do everything you can.” 

“Thank you Andrew!” she said. He couldn’t see her smile but her eyes told him it was there. He smiled and said, “In-case you can’t tell, I’m smiling too.” Lisa didn’t have time for a comeback; both their pagers beeped. Frowning and taking a step away from each other, the both of them simultaneously said, “Gotta go!” and just like that, the heroes without capes were back to saving lives. 

Ivory 

 Ivory sipped her morning tea slowly. She looked at the clock – 8:00am. On any other working day, she should’ve been scrambling all over her house if she wasn’t already at the bus station by then. She had purposefully asked her BFF to lend her flat for that morning – just so Ivory didn’t have to wake up to all her relatives, her father’s tears and the air of general panic. She’d really needed that beauty sleep. Her phone vibrated and she glanced down at it; 5^th September of 2020. The text was from him. 

Good morning beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. Be prepared to be floored ;) 

She smiled, closed her eyes and breathed in. Instead of smelling the sea and its salt, she smelled buttered toast. She blinked her eyes back open and rushed to the toaster. She made it just in time. He would’ve said ‘burnt offering’ if she’d been a few seconds late. Chuckling, she gently plucked the toast slices onto a plate and poured herself a glass of chocolate milk. She knew she would not be getting any food for a long time after this, so she also gobbled up a cranberry-oats granola bar. Her phone rang and she picked up, “Hey!” 

“What do you mean ‘hey’? Where are you?” 

“Uhm, I’m getting my keys and I’m out the door in…” 

“Which means you probably just finished the breakfast I left you,” her BFF wasn’t having any white lies – today of all days. 

“Give me fifteen!” 

“Take twenty. No one is going to scream at you today,” the voice said, “well, no-one except Harry, he’s too excited.” 

“You saw him?” Ivory paused mid-sip. 

“Well, it’s only bad luck for the groom and bride to see each other right? Nobody said anything about the pregnant maid of honor.” 

“Ugh; You…” 

“I know, I know. Now get over here. God knows your hair needs a miracle worker today,” her friend hung up and Ivory grinned as she tousled her hair. 

At the salon an hour later, the best friends were quiet. “What is the matter with you today?” Carol asked Ivory. 

“Carol,” Ivory sighed at her BFF, “for the umpteenth time, I’m fine, I don’t have cold feet and I’m not regretting anything.” 

Carol gave her a smug look, “Fine then! Just tell me what you’re thinking.” 

Ivory laughed, “You know you’re really getting the hang of this mom-to-be thing.” Carol grinned and Ivory continued, “I was thinking about where we are now and where we could’ve been if this lockdown hadn’t happened.” Carol only nodded while the hairdressers continued rolling their hair. Theirs should’ve been a destination wedding in Goa. Once the relaxation rules came, not wanting to wait any longer, Harry and Ivory had convinced their respective families to hold the wedding with just a couple of relatives in Kerala itself. When asked about it, Harry had joked that he couldn’t tell many people that he was finally taken but Ivory had secretly been happy. She had always wanted a small intimate wedding, with the people she knew she loved and those who loved her back. Hence the invisible happiness on her face when Carol had asked to know her mind. She wasn’t sure of how things would be and she’d even felt a little uncomfortable the day before but now as she looked at herself in the mirror with the white gown wrapping her and the netted veil on her head, she knew she was ready. 

“No matter how unexpected everything turned out to be, I’m glad I did not postpone this,” she said aloud. When Carol didn’t respond, she turned to look at her BFF. She was standing there – with tears and stupid grin on her face. “No! Don’t cry,” Ivory shrieked, “You’ll ruin my makeup.” Carol burst out laughing and hugged her friend. “I’m so happy for you! I’d like to see how he ‘floors’ you. He’ll be the one thunderstruck up there!” 

Gina 

 “Please let me have him. I promise we’ll follow all the protocols you want us to follow. Please, just let us take him,” Gina was wailing. 

“I’m sorry Ms. Ahuja, we’re under strict orders to burn the body and not let Covid-19 patients’ families bury their dead. We understand your pain, but we’re just trying to avoid another riot like the one that happened in Orissa last week.” The staff was talking about a public incident that had happened when the people of a community had refused to allow the burial of a Covid-19 patient in their vicinity. “It is for everyone’s safety – your family, us doctors and the common people.” 

Gina slid onto the floor, “Please, give me some time.” 

“Ofcourse, we don’t have to start any of the proceedings till another hour. I suggest that you call your immediate family in-case you need help, but not more than two.” 

“I understand,” her voice broke. 

“Abba, I’ll get the scooty repaired. We’ll get a mechanic to come in and look at it,” she’d told her father, ten hours ago. 

“Gina, you know that I only trust Mohammed na? Then why do you say ‘a mechanic’?” Her father had asked and she’d just sighed at her stubborn father. 

“Fine, just be careful and take your Adhaar with you. Just in-case the Gujarat Police decides to stop an ex-army man for getting out during the day!” 

“Oh? Just let them try!” her Abba had said before he’d left the house. Three-quarters-of-an-hour later, she’d received a call telling her of her father’s accident in the alley next to the mechanic’s closed store. He’d been rushed to a hospital, pronounced dead, tested for Covid-19 and found positive and marked for an electric cremation. On 28^th October, 2020 her only living lifeline was being taken away from her and she’d been given no time to think, decide or act. Everything was being decided for her by total strangers who knew nothing about her – or her dear father. She looked at her phone. Her time was going to be up soon. 

Looking at her reflection in the hospital’s washroom mirror, she took a deep breath and clenched her teeth. Her father deserved peace – it didn’t matter how or where it happened. He deserved the least possible suffering and her mind told her that the cremation would be best. Her brain however, argued that their religion would never accept cremation for attaining peace. She closed her eyes, struggling to find a way out. Ever since her mother had passed away ten years ago, it had been she and her father – literally against the world. ‘This time however, you’ve left me in charge and I am certainly not going to let you down Abba,’ she told herself. Wiping her tears, splashing cold water on her face, she took another deep breath. 

“I don’t understand this but I’m going ahead with this Abba. I hope you find Amma and tell her that too. I love you,” she said against the glass as she watched his lifeless body being placed into the huge metal chamber in a wooden case. The room lit up and she gathered all her courage to bid farewell to the man who brought her up from nothing. That night she tried to smile through her tears as she read through his diary, clutching the urn that held the bits of her Abba the fire couldn’t erase. 

Hannah 

 01.01.2020 

She’d written in her diary. 

The day went by at the hostel with video calls, Netflix and chill and lots of sleep. There’s no one here and I hope I get to go back to the college tomorrow itself. Food tastes horrible, almost like it’s only partially cooked. I think I’ll order something for the night. Ma had asked me to be careful about the things I’ll do today – because I’m likely to do just that for the rest of the year (I guess such a life wouldn’t be that bad!) Staying home, good food, sleep movies, some work – well hope this year’s finally the one I figure things out. 

Hannah was reading through her old diary scripts before starting a new one for the next year. She wanted to see if she’d come any further from who she’d been, last year. Some memories were happy, some sad, but most of all, she realized how true that quote was: ‘No matter how much you’re prepared for it, life always throws curveballs at you – and it’s okay to take a hit. What matters is the way we pick ourselves up after taking that hit.’ 

31.12.2020 

She wrote. 

Life, like this, was not what I had in mind when I thought about 2020. Right now, I’m just glad I’m alive and I have a family that loves me. I guess I didn’t figure everything out but I did figure out about the things that actually mattered. 

From the Author: 

 Just like the people you’ve just read about, the past year for us has also been nothing less than tumultuous, unforeseeable and downright stressful. First the virus, then the lockdown, then the unexpected deaths of beloved ones and it just went on – from March to December. ‘2020 is over now,’ some of us may think, while others may say, ‘2020 was just the teaser for 2021!’ Whatever the next year has in store for us, we must remember the lessons we’ve learned this year – be thankful for being alive, love yourself, stay with your family, work from home, meet up virtually, chill, eat, get lots of sleep and stay 6 feet apart wearing masks when out of the house. I’ll admit, throughout this year, I’ve wanted to find the person who wished me ‘happy new year 2020’; just to punch them in the face. But jokes aside, ‘happy new year’ sounds scary to me right now, so how about we say ‘God Bless your 2021’ and leave 2020 behind with its lessons and memories while riding into 2021 – on a high.