2021 and the Tale of Two Homes: I Feel Guilty Not Merely for Surviving the Pandemic But Surviving It in Comfort
- As individual freedom is increasingly under attack in India, my guilt now extends to all aspects of life.
It’s surreal to think it has been two years of the pandemic, of quarantining and social distancing. 2021 was a year of hope as vaccines were available but for our families, it was a year of despair as India gasped for breath.
Though working from home in Seattle I could still take off for vaccination, a luxury very few of my friends were offered. Vaccines were finally available but no longer was I keen to meet friends or travel. The only thought running in my mind was— when would my family be vaccinated. It would be at least a few months wait if not longer.
My Facebook feed was a testament to how apart the two places I call home are. Acquaintances in United Stated would share pictures as they dined, socialized and traveled, perks of being inoculated, whilst friends from India would beseech for any leads on a hospital bed or oxygen cylinders. Every few days, I would hear of yet another loss in the family. There was a vaccine for this virus, just not in India.
My aunt’s mother was hospitalized for covid. With no one around, she called the only number she remembered, that of her daughter in the U.S. After many frantic calls, aunt could contact the hospital and thus help finally arrived. The first thing they did was to take away the patient’s cellphone. We lost her the next day. This feeling of utter helplessness, the inability to be with our family in times of crisis is one many in the diaspora went through this year.
People eyeing the beds of critically ill patient, so their kin could get that bed. This was the desperation my friends were facing when I was ensconced here, fully vaccinated.
One of my school friends recounted the horrors with vivid comparisons to an overcrowded eatery. She said how we usually lookout for someone about to finish their meal to grab a table. It was the same at hospitals. People eyeing the bed of a critically ill patient, so their kin could get that bed. This was the desperation my friends were facing when I was ensconced here, fully vaccinated.
Many in the diaspora arranged oxygen cylinders for India, only to realize how the value of lives changes between geographies. The cylinders were stuck at Delhi customs because at peak of the crisis, the GST had increased. This tax amount would have bought a few more cylinders or rather saved more lives. Government coffers took precedence over life there, while in the United States, I got vaccinated for free with the business providing incentives for it.
I feel guilty not merely to survive the pandemic, but that I survived it in comfort. As individual freedom is increasingly under attack in India, the guilt now extends to all aspects of life. If I am razed by a car, justice would find a way. If I protest, the media would report, and despite being a minority practicing Hinduism, I am not harassed for celebrating Diwali, nor do I live in fear of genocidal calls.
This year was a year of loss, pain and sorrow. I hope we all can derive strength and lessons from the past year to bridge the gap of inequality that exists between our two homes.
Swati Garg is a software engineer based in Seattle, Washington.