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2021 was hard on many families. Ruchira Ghosh narrates her ordeal - but also the silver lining that emerged from it.
2021 was hard on many families. Ruchira Ghosh narrates her ordeal – but also the silver lining that emerged from it.
Phew! Another Covid ridden year is behind us now. 365 days of struggle, agony and suffering untold.
During the transition phase between the two Covid waves (September 2020-March 2021), many ‘lucky ones’ bought property, got hitched, and some even managed to make babies.
Hordes of people (with or without masks) defied the pandemic, travelled extensively both countrywide and abroad. Alas, for me and my family, the stars certainly were not shining brightly. Just as I had mentioned in an earlier post, my spouse’s job loss coincided with the advent of Covid in March 2020. A huge amount of money by way of terminal benefits still remain unpaid even after the lapse of eighteen months and more.
Five days into the new year my husband’s spinster aunt — who ‘brought him up by hand’ and who lived with us — passed away. In a way it was a relief because the poor old octogenarian had been bedridden over the past five years or so and was growing more eccentric with every passing day. It may sound brutal but in the given circumstances it meant one less mouth to feed. Real desperate situation, let me tell you.
In April, one jab of Covishield left me hovering between life and death. Almost simultaneously the second Covid wave became active. Close on its heels came the second lock down. Normal civic life came to a screeching halt. Skeletal banking services hit funds. One fine morning we discovered that food supplies were fast depleting. Plus, there was nobody (I was confined to bed) to run the kitchen.
During that cataclysmic moment our daughter quietly stepped in and took over the household’s reins. As funds were insufficient already, she withdrew fairly large amounts from her salary account (she is a practicing physiotherapist) to replenish the groceries, pay newspaper, mobile recharge and power bills. To add to our woes, the refrigerator conked off suddenly. We touched her for the repair costs. She gladly obliged.
My daughter is all of 27. All along she had been rather lethargic and self-centred in her mannerisms. But this sudden change of behaviour was an eye opener. That she could be dutiful, level- headed and caring was amazing indeed.
I must admit that she ruled with an iron hand. To cut costs, the housekeeper/maid was sent packing. The father-daughter duo managed to keep the house clean enough. She cooked rice/roti and different types of pulses/legumes for lunch and dinner. Some days when we could afford it, a veggie/side dish was added. Dairy/ fruits/snacks were conspicuous by their absence. The summer months were terrible, the meals albeit frugal, but we managed to ward off starvation!
The young lady resumed her clinic duties. She efficiently juggled her kitchen and professional duties. Arising at the crack of dawn she would cook in bulk quantities to last from lunch through dinner. During evenings, home after work, she managed to put hot food on the table. After dinner and a bit of study, it was bedtime for her.
Months passed. Slowly, money from our meagre interests/ investments began trickling in. Things began to look up. By the onset of the festive season and winter, we were more comfortable. Not only did we manage to entertain outstation guests, we also managed to get routine health check-ups (self & spouse) done. Between ourselves, we also managed to procure a few other essential items of personal use.
Personally for me, the greatest blessing (call it a major feat) has been the fact that my daughter has worked tirelessly, relentlessly on my atrophied leg muscles (fallout of Corona) and finally put me back on my feet again. I can now walk normally and free. God bless her!
Image credits Parastoo Maleki on Unsplash
Am a trained and experienced features writer with 25 plus years of experience .My favourite subjects are women's issues, food travel, art,culture ,literature et all.Am a true feminist at heart. An iconoclast read more...
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