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QUARANTINED
QUARANTINED
#LifeChangingContests
My legs were sluggishly sauntering and my heart dreaded the next step of my life. Oximeter flashed the level as 98 but I felt choked, an ambulance was on the way to quarantine me in a plush hospital. I was an asymptomatic carrier and, in my opulent three BHK abode, resided just duo, me and my Akaash, who was my husband, my childhood sweetheart, and whom I loved like insane. ‘Crazy and obsessed’, that’s what my mom called me when I frantically waited for him. I felt I was Akaash, my thoughts were Akaash, everything I did was for Akaash, he dwelled inside my heart, and the song ‘Everything I do, I do it for you’ was perfectly tailored for my love. Such was my love; crazy, generous, perhaps unconditional. But last night when my report came positive, I requested him to let me stay in my home and not in the quarantine hospital. The health care workers had permitted my homestay but Akaash resisted. Reasons unknown, but he resisted my stay at our home and persuaded me to go to the hospital. “Fair enough”, I said to him vocally, as the virus was deadly and the risk of Akaash getting infected would always be around. Also habituated following my heart, (that’s Akaash) I hesitantly nodded for getting quarantined.
The doorbell rang and the medical staff (all dressed in PPE kits) requested me to move outside my abode. My eyes searched for him. I just wanted to see Akaash once, ‘Who knows, maybe for the last time,’ I thought. But alas, my feverish eyes couldn’t locate him. My legs trembled when I stepped inside the ambulance and my face convulsed with the thought of leaving my comfort zone. I felt the hot sensations running down my eyes and sensed that I was wheezing heavily.
“I will die,” I screamed which jerked the medical staff, who immediately checked my temperature and oxygen level.
“Madam, you are fine. The oxygen level is good. Don’t worry, you won’t die,” said the medical staff. But somehow, I felt choked. Adjoining me, a lad in a white T-shirt palpitated highly as he laid uncomfortable on the stretcher. I could feel he was struggling to breathe though he was given oxygen. His eyes were haunting at me, pleading me to bestow some mouthful of air to him. The melancholy of his eyes said that the gust of my air was important for his existence, otherwise, he was sure to be annihilated. I sympathized with him...
#LifeChangingContests
My legs were sluggishly sauntering and my heart dreaded the next step of my life. Oximeter flashed the level as 98 but I felt choked, an ambulance was on the way to quarantine me in a plush hospital. I was an asymptomatic carrier and, in my opulent three BHK abode, resided just duo, me and my Akaash, who was my husband, my childhood sweetheart, and whom I loved like insane. ‘Crazy and obsessed’, that’s what my mom called me when I frantically waited for him. I felt I was Akaash, my thoughts were Akaash, everything I did was for Akaash, he dwelled inside my heart, and the song ‘Everything I do, I do it for you’ was perfectly tailored for my love. Such was my love; crazy, generous, perhaps unconditional. But last night when my report came positive, I requested him to let me stay in my home and not in the quarantine hospital. The health care workers had permitted my homestay but Akaash resisted. Reasons unknown, but he resisted my stay at our home and persuaded me to go to the hospital. “Fair enough”, I said to him vocally, as the virus was deadly and the risk of Akaash getting infected would always be around. Also habituated following my heart, (that’s Akaash) I hesitantly nodded for getting quarantined.
The doorbell rang and the medical staff (all dressed in PPE kits) requested me to move outside my abode. My eyes searched for him. I just wanted to see Akaash once, ‘Who knows, maybe for the last time,’ I thought. But alas, my feverish eyes couldn’t locate him. My legs trembled when I stepped inside the ambulance and my face convulsed with the thought of leaving my comfort zone. I felt the hot sensations running down my eyes and sensed that I was wheezing heavily.
“I will die,” I screamed which jerked the medical staff, who immediately checked my temperature and oxygen level.
“Madam, you are fine. The oxygen level is good. Don’t worry, you won’t die,” said the medical staff. But somehow, I felt choked. Adjoining me, a lad in a white T-shirt palpitated highly as he laid uncomfortable on the stretcher. I could feel he was struggling to breathe though he was given oxygen. His eyes were haunting at me, pleading me to bestow some mouthful of air to him. The melancholy of his eyes said that the gust of my air was important for his existence, otherwise, he was sure to be annihilated. I sympathized with him...
