‘Dozens of people in my neighborhood have infected people. My colleague: Um. My son’s teacher: Um. House on the right: Um. Left house: Um. Death everywhere. ‘
As India suffers from the world’s worst corona virus crisis, our New Delhi chiefs describe the fear of living in the midst of a pandemic spreading at large scale and speed. so. The crematoriums piled up the bodies, as if a war had just happened. Fire burns day and night. Many places held mass cremations, with dozens of people at the same time. And, at night, in some areas of New Delhi, the sky was blazing with flames. 
The sick person, without a bed, must lie down on the ground. Photo: New York Times. I waited for my turn to become infected Sickness and death were everywhere. Dozens of homes in my neighborhood have people infected. One of my colleagues is sick. My son’s teacher is also sick. The neighbor is two houses on the right side: Um. The two houses on the left: Um. “I don’t know what kind of illness I have,” said a good friend of mine who was in the hospital. “Just taking a breath and you will …”, his voice fades, unable to finish the sentence because he is too tired. He barely has a decent bed. And the medicine that the doctor prescribed for him is not in India. I was sitting in my house waiting for my turn to get sick. That is the feeling it is in New Delhi, as the world’s worst Covid-19 crisis is happening all around us. It’s out there, I’m here, and I feel as if it’s only a matter of time before I get sick. India is recording more infections every day, sometimes up to 350,000, more than any other country since the beginning of the pandemic, and that’s just the official numbers. Most experts believe that this number is lower than reality. 
The crematorium was overloaded, many bodies were waiting for their turn. Photo: New York Times. New Delhi, the vast capital of India’s 20 million people, is suffering from a huge spurt. A few days ago, the positive rate reached a staggering 36%. This means that more than a third of people tested are infected. A month ago, this figure was less than 3%. The disease spread so quickly that hospitals were completely flooded with sick people. Thousands of people were turned away. Medicine is exhausted. The same goes for lifesaving oxygen. Patients are trapped in long, tangled lines at the hospital gate or at home. They were gasping for breath, literally. Although New Delhi was blocked, the epidemic was still raging. Doctors across this city and some of Delhi’s top politicians are giving desperate SOS calls, both on social media and on TV, to beg for oxygen, medicine, and help. . It was as if war had just happened in India Experts have always warned that Covid-19 could devastate India completely. The country is vast with about 1.4 billion people, densely populated, and in many places, its inhabitants are still very poor. What we are witnessing is very different from last year, in the first wave of India. Then there is the fear of the unknown. Now we know. We know the overall disease, its size, its speed. We know how frightening this second wave is, it hits everyone at once. 
The outdoor collective cremation ground is constantly red and fiery. Photo: New York Times. What we feared in the first wave of last year is now coming to the fore: the disruption, the fall, the realization that so many people will die. As a foreign reporter for nearly 20 years, I traveled around war zones, was kidnapped in Iraq and sent to jail in many places. But this pandemic is worrisome in another way. There is no way to know if I, my wife, and two children are among those with mild illness and then recover well, or if we will be exhausted. And if we get really sick, where do we go? The intensive care areas are full. The entrance to many hospitals has been closed. A new strain here has a “double mutation” that can cause a lot of harm. Science has yet to delve into it, but as far as we know, one mutation makes the virus more contagious, and the other makes it partially resistant to the vaccine. Doctors are quite scared. I talked to a few people and they said that I had the vaccine twice but still got very sick. 
A Covid-19 patient is waiting to be hospitalized in South Delhi, April 24. Photo: New York Times. So what can we do? Personally, I try to stay optimistic, believing it to be one of the best immune system boosters. However, in reality, I find myself lazily walking indoors, cooking for the children in a lethargic state, feeling like both my mind and body are dough like wet powder. I’m afraid of checking my phone because I miss a text message telling my other friend that my friend is seriously ill, or worse. I am sure millions of people feel the same way. I began to visualize the symptoms: Did I have a sore throat? What is that headache? Is my condition worse today than yesterday? A part of where I live, South Delhi, is now blocked. Like many other places, we had a strict blockade last year. But now, the doctors here are warning us that the virus is more contagious and we have a lot less chance of getting help than the last wave. Therefore, many of us are frightened when we step outside, as if there is poison in the air and everyone is afraid of breathing. No one wears a mask, not even the police Delhi is plunged into hardships and dangers, but the situation is still getting worse. Epidemiologists say the number will continue to grow, possibly up to 500,000 new infections per day nationwide, and up to one million Indians will die from Covid-19 until August. It should not be like this. India was anti-epidemic well up until a few weeks ago, at least on the surface. The country closed its doors, experienced the first wave, then reopened. The mortality rate here is very low (at least according to official statistics). Last winter, life almost returned to normal. I was out for the news in January and February, driving through towns in Central India. Nobody – I mean, no one, not even the police – wear a mask. This is as if the country is telling itself: “It’s okay, we have it under control”, despite the wave of a second wave. But now, not many people dare to think like that anymore. 
Relatives of a Covid-19 victim were performing a religious ceremony during the funeral on April 24. Photo: New York Times. Many in India are also upset with the speed of the vaccination campaign. Less than 10% of the population has received one dose, and only 1.6% are fully vaccinated, even though India is producing two vaccines. “Catastrophic catastrophe” Here, as elsewhere, the rich are less affected by a crisis. But this time it was different. A friend of mine, well connected, asked all the people he knew to help his friend, a severe Covid-19 patient. His friend is dead. No one can help him in hospital. The patient is paralyzed. “I tried everything to get him a bed, but we couldn’t. Everything is chaotic, ”my friend said, his emotions still intact. “This is a disaster. This is murder ”. Every day, I ventured out to buy food because no one delivered it. I wear two masks completely and stay as far away from others as possible. Almost every day passed, a family of 4 of us all withered from inside. We try to play together, try not to talk about the people who just got sick, or the people running around town looking for help, and they probably won’t find it. Sometimes we just sat quietly in the living room, looking out at the sweet figs and palms. Through the open window, on long, hot, quiet afternoons, we can only hear two languages: the sound of an ambulance. And birds. ‘The dead cannot leave peacefully in New Delhi either’ India is suffering from a serious shortage of medical equipment and oxygen in the context of a rapidly increasing number of Covid-19 cases. The patient’s family had to wait languidly for the cremation.
You must log in to post a comment.