Notes of grief

Her voice sounds as blank as her life. Only the wavering notes betray the anguish that has permeated her being. Kerrein Sharma (28), a Panchkula-based young lawyer, lost both her parents to Covid last month in a span of four days between May 11 and May 14. Her father Dr Ajay Sharma had come out of retirement in April to tend to patients’ at the Government’s call and had contracted the virus in May while on duty. Soon the family of three was infected. And her parents succumbed in quick succession. The world, as she knew it, ceased to exist for her. Like every youngster, her mobile was an extension of herself. “Now I don’t look at my phone for days as mom and dad are never going to call.” Unable to face the loneliness of an empty home, Kerrein, still struggling with post-Covid complications, has gone to stay with a friend in Patiala, who lives in a joint family. A temporary stay there may keep her mind away from her grief but it is also a poignant reminder what she has lost. “I wish I had died with them. For ten days after their death when I was struggling with severe Covid symptoms, I would pop 2-3 sleeping pills at night so that if some complication happens, at least I would die without a struggle,” says the tearful youngster. She plans to have a houseguest or even a pet to live through the next few months, till the normalcy of a routine life is able to dull the sharp ache in her heart.

There may now be no one to call of her own, but unfortunately, Kerrein is not alone in her misfortune, as Covid-19 has hardly left anyone untouched by grief of loss. All across India, the virus and death have been all-pervasive, particularly in the second wave, hardly sparing anyone. Families are mourning the loss of children, parents, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, sisters, brothers…

Delhi-based Archana Datta, former Doordarshan director general, lost two anchors of her life within a span of few hours. Her husband of 40 years, A R Dutta (68), director (retd), Defence ministry’s training institute, and her mother Bani Mukherjee (88), succumbed to Covid in absence of oxygen and hospital beds on April 27-28 this year. These couple of months have not been easy, as she, like many others, tries to rearrange the shattered pieces of her life into a semblance of normalcy. A stoic Archana, who’d never even filed an IT return earlier suddenly has to deal with nitty-gritty of life post these deaths. “There is hardly any time to grieve. I have to be a father to my children. My daughter is still in a shock. My niece is still struggling with post-Covid complications. And my son, who bore the entire trauma by himself — from rushing to hospital to cremating his father and grandmother —needs an elder in his life.”

Mitesh Jiwan Salunke (37) of Jalandhar, on the other hand, can never have the comfort of any elderly presence ever in his life. In the past year, he has lost eight family members, including his mother, three maternal aunts, three maternal uncles and his young brother-in-law. His father had died five years back. With his business in a shambles and an ongoing struggle with severe post-Covid complications, his will to live has taken a severe beating. “I don’t have anyone to turn to for any advice,” says a sombre Salunke.

However, it’s Faridabad-based Vishal (16) who has to bear the unkindest cut of destiny. An orphaned child with special needs, Vishal was adopted ten years ago by a childless couple Jaipal and Jagwanti. Both of them succumbed to Covid earlier this month leaving Vishal orphaned yet again. The child, mentally challenged and visually impaired, is currently lodged in Deep Ashram Gurugram. “No one from the couple’s extended family is ready to keep him or pay for his care,” says an official of the social welfare department. “It has been nearly three weeks, Vishal hasn’t uttered a word. Neither is he sleeping or eating properly,” the official adds.

Mohali-based Vaishali (29) has taken to sleeping on her mother’s side, whom she lost to Covid last month. Infected herself, she couldn’t perform her last rites. “When hospital returned her personal articles, I touched her phone to my face, wanting to feel her presence, as I was not able to say goodbye.” Before she could process her grief, her brother Rahul (28), unable to cope with his mom’s death, disappeared earlier this month. With the help of police and her friends and family, she found him ten days later in a state of utter fear and anxiety. The age difference between them may be of just a year but this loss has forced her to grow-up overnight.

She isn’t the only one. As the second wave claimed a large number of lives of those in their thirties and forties, many children and teenagers have been either left to fend for themselves or have been forced to take on responsibilities too heavy for their young shoulders. There have many instances of the loss of not just one parent but both parents since the past one year.

Forced to grow up

Jashanpreet (18) of Tarn Taran hasn’t had any time to grieve after his father Jaswinder Singh’s death last year. He may have to drop college. Why? “Because the business is in a shambles. Our savings are exhausted. There’s no money to pay the labour. My mother is not educated. My sister is in Class XII and my grandparents are now dependent on me,” mumbles the teenager slowly, perhaps realising the enormity of his responsibilities.

Far away in a Kangra village, Class XI student Ashok (17) faces the same misery. Even though his paternal uncle is supporting him and his sister (7), Anuj wants to opt for a vocational course now after Class XII. He wants to take up a job ASAP to take care of his sister, shelving his engineering dreams permanently.

Ranjit Singh (14) of a village near Ludhiana, has been at the receiving end of life’s bitter realities since past five years. “First his sister died in 2016, and then within a span of eight months he lost his parents to Covid since March last year,” says Satpal Singh, his uncle, looking after the orphaned teen now.

All of 21 Ankita*(21) from Karnal has had to put on the mantle of a father and mother both for her brothers, 17 and 14, respectively. She lost her father, a fruit vendor and family’s sole bread winner, in May last year to illness and her mother to Covid in May this year. Abandoning her plans to study further, she has appealed to district authorities for a job now.

Gurdaspur-based Anshuman Rampal (20) and his brother Aman (16) and Una’s Arun(16) and his younger sister are facing a similar plight. Arun’s father died three years back, and he lost his Covid positive mother in May this year. Son of naan-chana vendor, his shop has been handed over to a helper, as he couldn’t pay the rent. The boy, who had dreams of joining the Army, says his priority now would be educate and marry off his sister but is clueless in absence of any means.

Anshuman, too, lost his father a decade back, while his mother, Babita, an ASHA worker and a frontline warrior, died of Covid earlier this month. Anshuman has been knocking at the district authorities’ doors either for compensation or a job without much hope to get any. According to rules, if a ‘frontline warrior’ dies due to Covid, he/she is entitled to compensation. However, in Babita’s no compensation was given as doctors claimed she died of a heart attack. An official, not wanting to be named, does admit that heart attack was due to post-Covid complications but says a job or any aid is unlikely. To complicate matters further, her death is not covered under any insurance scheme.

Old hands, young pyres

While these youngsters at least have the strength of youth to wade through their misery, on the other side of life’s pendulum are many elderly persons, who have lost their middle-aged sons, daughters or daughters-in-law. This cruel twist of fate has forced them to take on the care of their young grandchildren.

Phillaur-based Pirthipal Singh (66) lost his only son to Covid last year, leaving his three grandkids, aged between seven to nine years, to his and his wife’s care. The kids’ mother had died five years earlier. Pirthipal and his wife have moved in with their eldest daughter based in Jalandhar village, not able to take proper care of such small kids. There are financial constrains as well. “We do not have any savings. My daughter had forego her kid’s school fee to buy clothes for these kids. I did get a call from government that my orphaned grandchildren are entitled to pension, transferrable to their account. But the bank won’t open their account. The bank people are asking for court documents to prove I’m their guardian. What am I supposed to do?”

Another pandemic in making

With nearly 4 lakh Covid deaths till now, mental health experts are warning of a different kind of epidemic. All across India, psychologists and psychiatrists have been inundated with mental health cases due to unresolved trauma.

Ludhiana-based psychiatrists, Dr Rajeev Gupta have been getting 13-14 such cases every month. “Families who have lost their breadwinners (aged 30-45) are going through the toughest time. The number of young widows coming for counselling is more, as most of them don’t have any emotional, financial and social support. In many instances, not only the in-laws but their own families have abandoned them in absence of resources,” he adds.

As affected people struggle in isolation with unprocessed grief, experts are predicting an alarming increase in number of psychosomatic cases. They have dubbed this emerging syndrome as ‘post covid stress disorder’.

“Indian customs/traditions have always been community oriented, whether celebrations or mourning. All religions/communities usually have a 13-17 day mourning period that helps the affected family to grieve in presence of relatives and friends and find some sort of closure. The Covid protocols have put a stop to all this,” says Chandigarh-based Dr Simi Waraich. “A nuclear-setup, sudden loss of a seemingly healthy person, lack of any family presence during cremations — these are bound to leave emotional scars. Zoom funerals for those unable to reach aren’t helping either. The images remain etched in their mind, the digital connect reinforcing the physical isolation,” she adds

The absence or delay in rituals like ‘asthi visarjan’ or ‘tehravi’ have only added to the helplessness of many affected families, as many of these rituals allow/help in acceptance of reality. For Chandigarh-based Harsharan Kaur (42) who lost her husband to Covid in September last year, it was her belief in spirituality and the karmic theory of soul being indestructible and its associated rituals immensely helped her and her two children in accepting their loss. “At the end of the 13th day, I wrote a letter to my husband about the things left unsaid, bidding goodbye to his soul,” she adds.

She was unconsciously doing what most mental health experts are already encouraging such patients to do. Dr Sheryl John, consultant psychiatrist, Dr L H Hiranandani & Holy Spirit Hospital, Mumbai, agrees “Journaling not only their grief but also the happy times they had with dead family members helps in venting out emotions.”

Pouring out of this grief whether in a journal, or to friends or an expert is the only healthy way to process it, instead of keeping it bottled-up. Mumbai-based Ashish Thakur, a mental health and wellness expert, dubs such cases as ‘walking volcanoes’. A specialist in grief counselling, an emerging concept in India brought to forefront by the pandemic, Thakur says, “The stress will burst out eventually. This will have drastic effects on mental and physical health manifesting itself in anger, guilt, self-blame, relationship issues, substance abuse, etc.”

During the pandemic, it wasn’t just physical isolation for those left behind, all that swallowing of grief caused emotional suffocation too, adds Thakur.

So what’s the solution? As survivors remained stranded inside their homes during the lockdown, Mumbai-based psychiatrist and psychotherapist Dr Anjali Chhabria and her team have, during the second wave, started holding group grief counselling sessions on Zoom, free of charge, with loss-affected individuals. “There are eight to 10 persons per group. We have three groups at the moment. People find it easy to share and connect, as all of them understand each other perfectly.”

For India to heal collectively, we need to reach out to others as a community. As Thakur says, “If just one person supports one person, journey of emotions can be navigated a little more easily.”

Most experts recommend that just show up and be around the affected person(s); help them with their routine things as loss not only affects their future but impacts every-day aspects. However, they strictly advise not to avoid inanities like “They are in a better place.” “Time heals.” “You should move or put it behind you.” Better to offer your silent support.

Subah is a Covid Widows Support Group on Facebook, started by three like-minded friends, Chandana Agarwal, Yoshita Sharma and Sarita Digumarti, doing just that. Started last month, it already has 174 members. Chandana, an ad professional working with OGM, is the brains behind the initiative. She says a website, covidwidows.in, devoted to provide jobs to affected women, got her thinking that before they reach this stage, they need to find a dignified closure. The result has been this group, providing assistance to its members at various levels. Dubbed ‘Bravehearts’ each member has been assigned a buddy and a life coach, who help them in dealing with a range of practical and emotional aspects that this sudden loss has brought on. They have also been holding weekly Zoom sessions, called ‘Share your heart’. “Many new members just listen initially. Just listening to the experiences of a shared trauma, they find solace among each other.”

This is exactly what rest of us need to do — “Listen without judging.”