Covid in India: Grief and worry consume expats in the UAE

Dubai - As India gets battered with the second wave of Covid-19, for the Indian diaspora, the battle to maintain sanity has become a constant ­— with them wondering when they can visit family and friends back home again

Grim pictures fill the TV screen. From one news channel to the next I surf in hope. But the image is unchanged. People scrambling for oxygen cylinders, funeral pyres burning out of control, wailing children, families devastated by a virus and a situation out of control. It is the same story online and on social media. The world’s attention is fixed firmly on the state my country is in. From what I see and hear, the second wave blowing through India is far deadlier than the one that took away one of my parents in September last year.

The memory of that day still hurts. I am only thankful I could make it just in time to say goodbye to my father, although self-quarantine meant my participation in the burial was denied. Maybe that’s what hurts more. I can’t be sure.

Today, despite the situation unfolding around me, I want to cling to a hope that this too shall pass. Yet, I can’t help but worry about my 74-year-old mother in my small, green village in Wayanad, Kerala, currently under lockdown.

The “what ifs” doesn’t stop. Because no one knows how long this second wave of the pandemic will last or when the next flight home will be announced; that itself is enough to send one into a state of worry — or worse, depression.

The tickers on news channels announcing the recovery rate are a small course of comfort, albeit temporary. I do the math. Infection vs Death, but nothing can stop the fear and anxiety.

As scores of new cases continue to wreak havoc in India, numerous countries across the world have little choice but to implement travel bans or advisories in an effort to prevent the spread of Covid. More countries are joining the bandwagon which currently include the US, the UAE, Australia, New Zealand, Oman, Saudi and Canada while borders with Pakistan and Bangladesh remain shut. India is almost isolated — like its diaspora.

In Dubai, friends and acquaintances, many of whom haven’t seen or met families since the start of the pandemic, join hands in helping struggling countrymen to procure oxygen and life-saving medicines, opening up their hearts and wallets in the despatch of essential supplies and equipment through embassies and consulates. But the task is mammoth. The frustration is real. Helplessness and despair are rising as the world’s second-most populous country teeters on the brink of collapse.

Frustration and helplessness

Losing his mother during the Covid lockdown and having to witness the funeral on FB Live is the worst outcome of this pandemic for Dubai-based PR professional Royston Rodrigues. He takes solace in the fact that he visited his 65-year-old mother a few months before she passed away, before the lockdown came into effect. “Not being able to say goodbye was very unsettling and difficult. I was unable to travel even when the flights resumed because my wife was pregnant.”

They managed to visit India in June last year, when restrictions eased, but now it looks like a long wait once again. Royston feels the best way to safeguard one’s mental balance in the present situation is to stay away from all social media and read less of what is going on. “That is not a solution and yet I’d definitely like to know what’s going on at home — it’s a double-edged sword.” He often wakes up at night wondering what the next phone call or message will convey.

At the beginning of the pandemic, Bangkok-based Dr Parvathy Varma’s 86-year-old mother, who lived with them in Thailand, decided to return to Kerala, India, for a few months, which was then relatively safe. The situation soon changed, and it’s been over 18 months now that her mother is stuck in India all alone.

“The thought of not being able to travel anytime soon is very stressful. My mom lives all by herself — I feel helpless because we’d made this temporary arrangement for her to live in India at the start of Covid, but this [current] situation was unforeseen. There is an overriding sense of guilt.” Parvathy’s worst fear is for her mother’s health. “And by that, I mean both physical and mental. Being alone with limited or no social interaction can have a devastating effect on her.’

Overcoming the guilt

For almost two years now, Saranya Rustagi, head of communications at Heriot-Watt University, Dubai, has been yearning to go home. But given the current situation, all she can do is watch with bated breath as the situation continues to worsen in India. “My heart breaks for my country. The stories I see and hear are gut wrenching,” she says. “My parents live in Bangalore and my in-laws live in Gurgaon, two of the worst hit cities currently under strict lockdown. My father-in-law tested positive (and eventually recovered). My ageing parents live in complete isolation and are struggling to attend to basic chores.”

Saranya is unsure of when she might be able to visit her family, much as she wants to. For her, knowing that her family is “stable” so far is a small consolation. To help overcome the helplessness of the situation, she and her husband decided to contribute to the cause of procuring oxygen concentrators for those who need them in India. “Our effort is just a tiny drop, but this is the least we can do for our country. It makes us feel connected to them and helps us in understanding their struggles better. The waiting game is hard, and no matter what, we make sure we speak to our family every day — that way they feel connected to the outside world, especially to their grandkids here in Dubai.”

Dubai-based business owner of a direct sales agency Nitin Aggarwal has spent the last 18 months in Dubai. This period has been the longest he has stayed away from his family in India. “Not being able to see family in times like this is quite distressing and agonising,” he says.

“My parents and brother live in Gurgaon, among the worst affected cities in India. I have lost a few near and dear ones. My brother and his family who tested positive are undergoing treatment (and stable), but my 68-year-old dad also tested positive — this is extremely worrying. Securing a bed in a hospital is almost an impossible task now.”

London-based Ajay Hasabnis is in a constant state of worry, considering that for the last two years he has been unable to visit his parents in India. He continues to hold on to the belief that vaccines might prove to be life-saving, although he has a hard time coming to terms with the deaths of family and friends, including an uncle and a close friend and the hospitalisation of his sister and brother-in-law who contracted Covid.

His biggest fear, however, is that he might not be present if the worst happens. “My parents are not tech-savvy, they live alone, and India being on the Red List means there can be no travel either way anytime soon. I am doing my best to stay sane and not worry too much. I feel a little guilty too: I have wonderful facilities here and I wish my parents and my countrymen had access to better facilities.”

Home is a world far away

Melbourne-based trainer and assessor Manish Gaur, who visited India every year until Covid struck, is awaiting the day when he would be able to see his family in Kolkata and Faridabad in person again. He says the situation left them totally shattered and considering the stringent measures Australia has put in place for people travelling from India, it is highly unlikely he will be able to visit family soon.

(Anjaly is an author and travel writer based in Dubai. You can contact her at anjaly@anjalythomas.com)