The COVID surge and the ensuing collapse of human values
By: Faezal Yunus
Tags: Human Touch, Masks, Covid, Human Apathy, Relationships

More than the lacunae in healthcare infrastructure, or the understaffed and overworked medical personnel (the frontline warriors), the surge in India’s COVID cases is witnessing a shockingly despicable collapse of human values

After a grueling week of tending to my uncle and aunt in the COVID ward of a government hospital in Delhi, which I initially scoffed at, I have a newfound respect for the frontline medical and nursing staff at the hospital. Even the healthcare infrastructure, which is a far cry from the spick and span hotel-like esthetics of a private hospital, grew on me as I realized how well they were managing the odds despite the makeshift arrangements, maintaining an impeccable supply of oxygen, which is what matters the most at this juncture.

But there’s only so much that the overworked medical and nursing staff can do, of which, a majority were postgraduate MD students and interns. They were relying on the support of family members and attendants, who were being handed the responsibility of keeping track of the patients’ vitals for comorbidities such as diabetes or hypertension. I was enraged at this initially, looking at it as if it were a dereliction of duty, but I soon realized how the medical staff direly needed more hands on the deck, and happily complied to lend a helping hand to my cousin for tending to his parents in the COVID ward. In doing so, I couldn’t help reflect on the shocking apathy of family and friends in lending their critical support, which is what I found to be even worse than the virus.

In safeguarding ourselves, practicing no-touch, we have lost that human touch. Though we are wearing masks to protect ourselves, our apathy and selfishness — the paranoia to protect ourselves from COVID — has unmasked many, showcasing their true colors. Some may consider this statement of mine as irresponsible and nonpragmatic, but there ought to be a balance between reasonable restraint in safeguarding/protection of the self and lending a helping hand to the COVID-infected. This human apathy, borne of selfishness for self-preservation, has almost approached a racist undertone, akin to a sort of apartheid between the haves (COVID infection) and the have-nots.

In safeguarding ourselves, practicing no-touch, we have lost that human touch. Though we are wearing masks to protect ourselves, our apathy and selfishness — the paranoia to protect ourselves from COVID — has unmasked many, showcasing their true colors.

I have seen neighbors alienate themselves from COVID-infected people next doors; the next of kin abandoning their family just to protect themselves; non-resident Indians not flying back to India to tend to their infected parents as the restrictions won’t allow them to fly back home for some time; empty funerals with not a soul to help lift the coffin from the hearse. This human apathy and indifference is shockingly despicable — it’s worse than any virus will ever be!

This human apathy and indifference is shockingly despicable — it’s worse than any virus will ever be!

With the airborne COVID variant, it’s no longer the proximity factor that begets the infection. Not getting infected now boils down to your immunity levels, and getting infected is now a function of chance or randomness. Why the paranoid seclusion, then? Even if you manage to seclude and cocoon yourself to live a few extra years, what’s the point if you lose the very people that constitute your world? What’s the point of living a bit more if you lose the very people with whom you share your happiness and sorrows with? You may live a bit more, but will you be able to overcome the regret — the contrition of not having helped when your people needed you the most?

This sordid state of apathy reminds me of a folklore about a person with a boon to live forever, until he chose to die of his own volition. Just when he had enjoyed living a few hundred years, he decided to put his life to an end and lay to rest for good. Why? He was healthy, alive and kicking, but he was living in an empty world —a world shorn of his friends, lovers, and family who kept dying one by one before him — realizing the futility of it all. It’s the very people and the relationships that make this wretched life worth living.

I lost my uncle this Sunday morning. As I helped lay him six feet under, I was aware of the irreconcilable loss, but I will live by the memories of his tight embrace and how he lovingly held my hands before he slipped into a comatose state. What I lost in him, I gained on the double with a newfound bond between me and my cousin. And that, in essence, is everything worth fighting to live for — the indefatigable human bond that no virus can ever kill.