Snapshots from the Second Wave

Photo by Emiliano Arano

 

The helpless girl cried for help,
Her dad was on  the death bed.
She waited outside the hospital,
Pleading for a doctor’s aid.

Her dad gasped for air,
The virus choked his lungs.
The oxygen in atmosphere ,
Was not sufficient.

The doctors inside were busy,
Preparing for a minister’s visit.
The wards were being cleaned,
As they prepared his covid kit.

He was the minister of health,
They were dependent on him;
For their promotion and wealth.
So, things should be clean and prim.

The critical patients waited,
Patiently for their turn.
Her father lost the battle,
The daughter lost her all.

As she grieved her father’s loss,
The cameras turned to her.
Curious jurnos and janta,
Captured her grief and fear.

The daughter beyond her grief,
Lashed out at the heartless crowd.
Can they bring him back for her?
She wailed long and loud.

The minister came out that moment,
The docs could now attend.
To the dying and dead patients,
The minister walked past her rant.

This is what happens,
When ministers are allowed.
To have their own way,
And rise above the crowd.

The ministers are for serving,
Not for acting as a lord,
They must be made accountable,
For failing to keep their word.

Pressure and performance ,
Run hand in hand ;
It’s the same for the ministers,
And they owe it to the motherland.