“I will emerge victorious.
I will not bow down to life.”
On the 8th of June, 2021, from a hospital bed, he wrote — not to us, but to the whole world.
Dear Fellow Human Being,
With dwindling oxygen in my lungs and difficult, laboured breathing, with much agony and anguish, I, Niraj Jha, a citizen of India, wish to state and express my feelings from this hospital bed, as I suffer from the dreaded scourge called Covid-19.
My entire family suffered from Covid, and they are still suffering from the complications that follow it. I do not know how long it will take for them to return to their normal life.
In March 2020, when the WHO declared a pandemic, I was working for the aviation industry, posted in Washington. At first there was only disbelief — all of us wondering how, despite the best medical care in the world, so many seemingly healthy people had begun to die. It was happening everywhere, my country among them.
Governments everywhere joined hands to contain this scourge, offering altruistic, yeoman service to suffering mankind. We saw the first wave — the lockdowns, the dwindling economy, the layoffs, the unemployment — and every government of the world trying to ease the suffering of the common people.
I, like any common man, tried only to help, to assist, and to feel with the suffering of others. I returned to my country and followed every protocol. Then came the second wave, more virulent than the first.
As I lie in the ICU, unable to breathe properly, my life now hangs on the thin, slender string of hope.
Please pray for me and for my family. Wish me well.
In the form of this letter, I appeal to the world and to its people to join hands together — so that this never, ever happens to mankind again.
Life is beautiful.
Yours sincerely,
— Niraj Jha, 8 June 2021
It hurts. But it will be okay.
Everyone is bound to leave — to cause pain, or simply slip away. The onus is on me to live my best life. For all the hurt I have borne, my one revenge against this life is to live the most beautiful one.
When I walked into my parents' washroom and saw a single toothbrush, the pain gripped me a little harder.
I hope we can all be careful enough that no one has to feel the weight of that loss again.