Love is a powerful force that can conquer even the most insurmountable obstacles. And in the midst of a pandemic, it is the beacon of hope that keeps us going. This is a true story of my journey in the year 2020, a year that will forever be etched in the history of mankind as a dark spot.
As we set out on our journey to Bangalore on March 22nd, 2020, the day of the Janta curfew, little did we know that fate had a different plan in store for us. We were on our way to Vellore for urgent medical treatment of a family member. I had all the travel details on my phone but unfortunately, the phone was stolen from the market a day prior. I clearly had the footage of a girl picking up my phone which I forgot in one of the cloth shops but the next morning we had a flight to catch so I just thought to let it go. All the travel details were on my phone which I had already lost, I can’t access my mail to change the password as every time it directs me to my phone number for password retrieval. But in a stroke of luck, #MakeMyTrip came to our rescue and helped retrieve all the travel details so that we could reach Vellore safely.
Little did we know that this was just the beginning of a series of daunting challenges that we were about to face. The world was in the grip of a pandemic, and a complete lockdown was in place. The roads were deserted after 10, and ration shops opened on specific days early in the morning just for a few hours. But amidst all this chaos and uncertainty, I witnessed something beautiful: Compassion.
People came together to help each other in whatever way they could. Those who had extra shared with those in need. Local people started selling freshly cooked idli and vada from their homes, as restaurants were closed. People shared their ration with each other so that no one went hungry. And the hotel manager, where we were staying, went out of his way to ask about our well-being every day.
But amidst all this kindness and compassion, I encountered something that sent shivers down my spine. It was quite late one night when I left the hospital for the hotel. The hotel was nearby but the connecting road was dark and silent. I could hear the street dogs barking. I had food packets with me for the rest of the family members in the hotel. The group of dogs started following me. I always fear street dogs. Even on a normal day, when I walk past a dog, I would keep looking at it from the corner of my eye until I have walked quite a distance. Now here I am, being followed by the dogs. Fear gripped me, but just as I was about to lose hope, I heard the roar of a motorbike engine. Two people wearing helmets appeared on the scene and shooed the dogs away, shining their bike lights on my path to guide me safely back to the hotel. I looked back smiled and gestured a heartfelt thank you.
In the grand scheme of things, these incidents may seem small, but they have left an indelible impression on my heart. Generosity, kindness, and compassion are not easily forgotten, and they continue to inspire hope in the darkest of times. As I look back on my journey in the times of Covid, I realize that it was not just a journey of physical distance, but also a journey of the heart- a journey that taught me the true meaning of compassion in difficult times.
PS: This post is a part of #BlogchatterA2Z 2023
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