In remembrance of my beautiful aunt, so young and so lively. Gone too soon.
The crusader virus is mercilessly on its conquest,
like a swarm of bees making honey in their hive,
letting no one interfere in their lives.
She defies every second of her existence as the doctors make haste
to put her on ventilator; but the demonic virus multiplies
as my aunt battles for every breath.
She loves her family greatly. She won’t embrace death.
She puts up a brave fight amidst all exasperations and sighs.
She longs for the kiss and touch
of her husband and gentle caresses of her sons,
of taps of encouragement on shoulders and hugs,
but she could hardly avail of anything as such.
As fate would have it, she is put on ventilator
after a few days of gloomy prognosis
and the much feared drug induced psychosis.
Who knew those were the last days the hospital could cater?
Alone she lays on her bed in the room,
as isolating and lonely as it gets.
Sobbing, a glass wall apart, my uncle breaks down and fears
seeing how ardently she fights off this impending doom.
Bereft of her touch every day, his heart beats in unison
with hers as she waves a hello with her frail hand and misty eyes,
assuring him of coming back home every day. Ah! Those sweetest lies!
But when there was so much love, how would she know of their stars’ collision?
I know heaven holds her safe in his arms,
as I never saw her ruffle any feathers.
Yet she died alone for no fault of hers
and left my uncle desolate – he who fell under the spell of her charms.
Quarantined throughout, they could not touch each other until her demise.
She frailly raised her hand in despairing gesture when their eyes did meet.
How much he loved and wanted her without conceit.
Hale, yet gone too soon – was it the virus or was it God’ s will? God’s will in disguise?