Amid the virus, another shot at love

RS Dalal

The curtains were coming down on the pandemic-hit 2020. It was the last week of December. My wife and I were in a celebratory mood, having warded off the deadly Covid virus for 10 long months — the eerie silence of the initial months of the lockdown, the panic reaction of our neighbourhood on the detection of an odd Covid case in one of its lanes, the instant cordoning off with barricades and the police presence, the instant arrival of vans for fumigation, and the ever trickling gloomy news of patients gasping on oxygen masks and ventilators — we had seen all that and braved it.

And just as we were toying with the idea of organising a small get-together to share our sense of achievement, the virus struck. My wife complained of a scratchy throat and a runny nose as she got up in the morning. ‘You must have caught a chill. You kept the rear door of the bedroom open till quite late in the evening,’ I said in a denial mode, repressing my fears. ‘Take an anti-allergy tablet and you should be fine,’ I added reassuringly. But by evening she was running high fever. Our tensions were rising by now. Next day, we nervously arranged to take the RT-PCR test and anxiously waited for the report — a long and uneasy suspense of 24 hours.

Our worst fear was confirmed when she tested positive. We were stunned for a while. Immediately, the masks were on and she moved to the bedroom to isolate herself. ‘You move upstairs; at least you shouldn’t get it since you’ve escaped it till now. I’ll try and manage by myself,’ she said, seriously concerned. ‘How can I do that? That’ll be cowardly. I must look after you, come what may!’ I insisted chivalrously.

All of a sudden, the poignant scenes from a Hindi movie of yore, Phool aur Patthar, flashed across my mind, wherein an ailing Meena Kumari is left alone in the house as the plague strikes her village and the family and the inhabitants desert it in panic. I was deeply affected by those scenes as a teenager. I remember everyone in the cinema hall sitting stunned in their seats till Dharmendra appears and nurses her back to health — in the process falling in love with her. ‘Wow! It’s an opportunity to look after you and make you fall in love again with me,’ I tried to cheer her up a bit flirtatiously. ‘Don’t close your bedroom door, for then I won’t be able to see you resting in bed and to keep your morale high. After all, the virus can’t fly all over the house,’ I said defiantly.

Somehow the news had leaked out and I noticed a significantly reduced number of morning and evening walkers in our lane. Such is the terror of this dreaded virus. And with her zest for life, medical guidance, and divine grace (and without forgetting my own service too), she recovered slowly, fighting a tough see-saw battle, at least for the first 10 days. However, love is blossoming again for me and has found an ever mellower resonating niche in her heart!

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