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Wave Two, Ripples Of Pain: A Narrative Poetry

Crematorium Covid Deaths

covid deaths burial

I was happy. It was February. Distress was low-key and functionalities had just started to get resolved. Things started to look good. It helped me too! By motivating me to get hold and move forward with a sense of sight and significance. The came March-end, the structure started showing signs of disturbance. Something was brewing up, we had anticipated but somewhere in our heart and brain, we were acting pretentious to the idea that it’ll be back, and locking us again in a quadrant of the small community I have called mine.

Things will restrict, slow down and we’ll have nothing but access to essentials merely. That too with little money in the booklet challenging the whole life and its savings. Tipsy turvy land and water were only to view but not excite, where land was captured with the virus, the water lived with freedom from man’s intervention.

April hits and crashes the structure altogether! The system failed to ensure security, healthcare services were experiencing a tornado of their own. Rushing, crashing, falling, standing up again, doing everything to sustain itself, and fetching resources from where they could. Not knowing that resources may have the potential to backfire too, black fungus, diabetes, stress, anxiety, and depression had become the new guests knocking at the door. Come to the power, everyone went silent. A part of them might felt that it wasn’t their fetch people from sinking mud. They ensured religious liberty for their people by facilitating the participation of dripping in water.

Ensuring their power in the right sector! Where some initiated a blame game and fake cries. Even the justice questioned the lack of rationality and logic they called to empowered with. The battle had an expected result, dying people to satisfying the egos of the powered individuals. Life crisis, abandoned children, parents dealing with the loss of young children. Questing a chance to secure the future of their counterparts. Nothingness was only answering as a reply. The situation started becoming better for the rest. Education demonstrations began with hiking fees, forced exams, and not considering pain and struggle. A market of quacks and hoarders too began to set up! With dead hope, only suspects were leftovers.

About the author :
Jigyasa Tandon is a Teacher, Youth Mentor, Researcher,  Certified HR, NLP Practitioner, Writer, Poet, Trainer, Social Activist, Mental Health Advocate, Counselling Psychologist (Experienced to manage Sensitive Groups), Mental Health Educationist, NIMHANS, Bangalore. She has laid the foundation of PSY-FI: For a Healthy Mind, an organization that is vocal for mental health education, resource building, capacity-building, mental health first aid, and counseling services. You can write to her at jigyasapsychology@gmail.com if you are facing mental strain, stress, the grief of a lost one, self-harm, Class 12th study material, and other workshops you want to participate in or conduct at your organization. She is currently running 3 peer support groups for lawyers, students, and teachers for facilitating mental health through the Covid-19 Pandemic.
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