Refraining myself

I think of watching the TV
and reading writers’ columns
like the yesteryears, this pandemic
but I refrain myself.

People are running helter-skelter
in search of oxygen and beds,
people are dying
like rats and roaches.

Graphs going only uphill,
numbers appearing to us as “statistics”
but a single digit there, of death,
was the whole world for someone.

Never in my life
have I empathised
so much with strangers
like I do now.

How much will I witness
people lamenting and crying?
How much helpless should I feel
about what I can’t manoeuvre?

Almost everything I see
are the same:
of distress,
misery and agony.

© Barnadhya Rwitam

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