People you Lose

 As per the numbers and data Covid-19 second wave came to an end in the month of July and life resumed its normal routine immediately after the lockdown was eased. People resumed their work, teachers started going to schools, markets opened up, cafe’s and restaurants had visitors. Life seemed normal but was it really that normal. Things weren’t the same, they never are after humanity being scarred this violently. With more than 1.5 lac deaths in Delhi (official numbers, real, I am sure are way more than this) Delhi just couldn’t go back to being what it was earlier. It’s not the regular routine that makes life normal, it’s the people and regular interactions with them that give us a semblance of sanity and normalcy. Those faces that we take cognisance of throughout our day assure us of the comfort and safety of the world around. This second wave hit those very familiar faces and people in our lives, it assaulted that very safety net for so many of us. We have lost so many of them; the uncle who owned the neighbourhood stationery shop and had been getting all my favourite pens and pencils since childhood, my friend’s sister whom though I had never met, but could still feel the grief my friend went through, the didi at my school who was worried about her daughter in law’s ailing health just a day before the lockdown, my distant cousin’s husband who had a shop on my way to my school, the uncle at my favourite coffee shop and so many more. Losing all these people didn’t make me grieve the conventional way, didn’t leave me crying but left a hollowness in my life. A strange weight on my heart that gnaws my insides just before I end my day, just when I look at my day and I realise I didn’t come across these familiar faces today. Have they left behind a void in my life, I don’t know, but they have definitely scarred it in ways unknown. I don’t remember having a heart to heart conversation pr emotional bond with either of these, it was always customary greetings and occasional updates about life yet life seemed unreal after they left. Naveen tea stall wasn’t the same now without uncle there. I failed to register his absence till the time I took notice of his photo on the wall. It didn’t shake me as such but coffee didn’t taste as good that day. It probably won’t taste the same ever. I didn’t click picture of his photo, I couldn’t bring myself to do so, but his image of him being just behind the counter would stay etched in my mind for the rest of my life. I would visit that shop again but it won’t feel the same. On the other I don’t think I would be able to visit the neighbourhood shop as often as I did; same kind of griefs can have different expressions, life is strange and so are its ways.