By Goutami Dasnayak
In my white coat I moved hastily across
Hospital corridors, anxious and burnt out
Covid gave the worst time of my life,
“Wish I weren’t a doctor”, I wanted to scream aloud.
I found a man among masks and aprons,
Tall, frail with wrinkled face
Report in hand and doubts in mind
As he moved near me in slow pace
“What makes you come without a mask? I shrieked
And open shop in a crowded street?”
“Rules are rules; Covid is not a joke
How many times should we all repeat?”
After a brief pause, in a ruffled tone
with half-hearted smile he spoke
“Yes I fear, but something more than death”
Between words , I found his voice choke
“I fear going home empty handed
As people fear to be on my street
I sell toys and grocery nearby
How do I make my both ends meet?”
“The fear of facing my bedridden wife
Whose eyes always gleam with hope
To see her five year daughter sleep hungry
Which mother in this world can ever cope?”
“My fears of hunger, pain , loss, despair
Come much before your fear of death
What I need now is food and money
And I will try till my last breath.”
This man kept me thinking for a while
And I didn’t know what advice to give,
Death is final and fatal we know, but
A little hope is all we need to live.