We lost Shardul on May 7. He was in his forties – healthy, full of life, an engaging conversationalist, a bird, rather nature, enthusiast, and a great brother. All in all, adorable and strong. A few months earlier, he had established a state-of-the-art dairy unit near Varanasi with help from his younger brother and other family members, contributing his bit to furthering India’s white revolution. He and his son Shrestha used to manage it.

When Shardul’s condition had worsened, he was shifted from Banaras to Delhi. He was in Max Saket ICU for weeks, first on NIV and then on Ventilator support as his lungs seemed to be giving in. Then, one morning on the family Whatsapp group the dreaded message appeared. His younger brother Piyush informed, “Shardul Bhaiya nahin rahey”.

At the last moment Shardul would have retained consciousness in the ICU ward, he wouldn’t have known that his parents were no more. Such is the nature of this pandemic. They had probably left this world before him not wanting to see their beloved young son’s life extinguished.

There are today, hundreds and thousands of such families across the country brutally impacted by Covid. I personally know of some, have heard of others anecdotally and have seen many others covered in print and electronic media. It’s a sad and debilitating crisis the country faces. Partly our own fault – the cumulative result of neglecting the health sector decade after decade, irrespective of the party in power, the dismal percentages spent on healthcare, budget after budget, illustrative and that too not actually spent many-a-times.

But there is another element to the current crisis. A question looms large. Begs an answer. How could we go ahead holding elections across states in April and May indifferent to the hospitalisations and deaths from a raging pandemic all around us?

In our ancestral village by the Ganga (in these difficult times, the holy river too doesn’t conjure happy images), three Pujas were held one after the other. Two by Shardul’s elder brother Neeraj Bhaiya and one by his son Shrestha.

Shardul will always remain in our hearts and minds as a fond memory, many memories… but the mind fails to grasp how it may have happened in another world. How they would have met – father and son, mother and son by the feet of Vishnu.