COVID Girl<\/p>\n\n\n\n
______________________________________________________<\/p>\n\n\n\n COVID Girl ______________________________________________________ \u201cTara! Tara!\u201d Mom sounds worried. She is standing next to my closed door and is calling me softly. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I released a deep sigh as I labored to pull myself up from my bed. Mom doesn\u2019t want me to close the door but I still do. Probably just to prove that I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-576","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/576"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=576"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/576\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":578,"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/576\/revisions\/578"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=576"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\u201cTara! Tara!\u201d Mom sounds worried. She is standing next to my closed door and is calling me softly. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I released a deep sigh as I labored to pull myself up from my bed. Mom doesn\u2019t want me to close the door but I still do. Probably just to prove that I am not as vulnerable as I appear to be. \u00a0The truth is, for me living is agonizing. I struggle to even stand up sometimes, can\u2019t walk more than a few steps without gasping for air, and can barely find the energy to talk. A teenager\u2013 turning fifteen today\u2013 I look normal with no obvious reason to suffer from such debilitating consequences. A year ago I had gotten COVID-19 with severe symptoms. It took me almost six weeks to heal but my debacle started after that. I never returned to normal life and later was diagnosed with long COVID. Who had known something like that even existed?
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mom doesn\u2019t wait for me. She opens the door, anxiously steps inside my room, and finds me halfway to the door. \u201cAre you okay, Mamoni? I\u2019ve been calling you for so long.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I sigh again. It is a struggle for me to just walk down to the door from my bed. Mom knows that. She holds me in a light embrace and joyfully says, \u00a0\u201cHappy birthday, my angel!\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I moan to sort of acknowledge her. Words I usually save for better times knowing I can find the strength to say only so many.\u00a0 \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYour grandparents are here,\u201d Mom says. \u201cThe whole family will be here soon. You need to start getting ready, Mamoni. Do you need help putting on your new dress? You\u2019ll look so pretty in that dress!\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Since I turned twelve I haven\u2019t had a birthday party. I prefer to go out with my friends to the mall, shop, eat, and call it a day. This year it is different. This is my mom\u2019s plan to cheer me up. She wanted to invite all my friends but I discouraged her. I try to keep myself hidden from my friends. Don\u2019t want them to see me in this embarrassing condition that most doctors can\u2019t even put their heads around. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI can do it,\u201d I quietly say, trying not to ruin her enthusiasm. \u00a0I am not too crazy about the salwar-kameez\u2013a traditional South Asian dress.\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mom loved me more than anything in the world. I was her only child. Divorced from my dad for the last two years, an ER nurse, she dedicates most of her free time to taking care of me despite her rigorous work schedule and challenging mental condition. I don\u2019t want to disappoint her in any way.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOkay!\u201d Mom doesn\u2019t look convinced but doesn\u2019t insist. \u201cJust ring me or text me if you need help.\u201d Mom closes the door before leaving. Lately, my energy level is so poor that often I don\u2019t even find the strength to call out for Mom and resort to texting. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It took me a while to put on my new salwar kameez. Both are yellow and embroidered. A long white scarf to go with it. Mom says I look the best in traditional dresses. She picked this dress herself. I do not always accommodate her requests but today I don\u2019t object. She has worked hard to throw this birthday party for me. She must have cooked half a dozen cherished Indian dishes for the guests, cleaned the house, and decorated it with balloons and banners. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As I slowly emerge out of my room I am greeted cordially by my grandparents, who have been patiently waiting for me to come out. They are my mom\u2019s parents. Both sweet and indulging. They quietly slip an envelope full of cash into my hand. Confused about my liking they have resorted to monetary gifts to avoid disappointment from my end.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I smiled and tried to say something thankful but both stopped me midway.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s okay, Mamoni,\u201d Grandma says. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to say anything. We know speaking is hard for you now. We are always praying for you. It won\u2019t be too long before you\u2019ll be all cured and again become our pretty little butterfly!\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That\u2019s what everybody used to call me\u2013Butterfly<\/em>. I used to run around, never static. A busy-bee. The complete opposite of what I am now. I feel an involuntary sob almost taking me over. I give them hugs and murmur Thanks<\/em> before allowing my attention to veer off toward my two aunts who are waiting to wish me next.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Aunt Lipi is Mom\u2019s eldest sister, older by two years. A civil engineer, she works for a government entity along with her husband. They have two kids, a boy, and a girl, both a few years older than me. None of them accompanied them today. They don\u2019t like family parties. Mom calls them spoiled. I don\u2019t blame them. I am not particularly crazy about being around the prying and judging eyes of aunts and uncles either.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Aunt Rita is four years younger than Mom. Her husband is in real estate and is a self-proclaimed millionaire. Her time is spent doing social work. They have a boy, eight-year-old Ronny. A brat in every aspect he is a big fan of mine, but clearly not big enough to leave his video game to greet me. He finds a brief moment to wave at me from the living room where he is playing PlayStation with another boy, who looks to be in his mid-teens. Not someone I have seen before.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Aunt Lipi gives me a long hug. \u201cHow is my favorite niece doing today? Happy 15th birthday, Mamoni! I got something really nice for you. Can you guess?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I can. She can never keep a secret. She already told Mom she bought an expensive wheelchair for me. I had an old one that Mom borrowed from a friend. My situation has turned so bad lately that at times I can barely walk. The wheelchair helps me make short trips outside the house. No matter how depressing it is I am learning to accept this new reality.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Aunt Rita probably loves me the most after Mom and Dad. She claims we share the same look and personality. My opinion differs on the latter one. She is too emotional and sheds tears at any opportunity. I rarely cry. People often are surprised to see how indifferent I sometimes look when faced with tragedy. When her turn comes Aunt Rita embraces me tightly and breaks into a soft sob. \u201cMy darling baby! You\u2019ll be back to yourself in no time. Trust me. This is just a test from Allah. And you are passing it with flying colors.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Then she sticks an envelope in my hand. More money. She doesn\u2019t say anything but I know there must be over a thousand in the envelope. Everybody wants to make me happy in whatever way they can think of.
\u201cThank you, Khalamoni,\u201d\u00a0 I almost whisper. I was already feeling tired.
Aunt Rita senses it. \u201cDo you need to sit, Mamoni?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Before I respond the doorbell rings. Mom checks the doorbell app on her cellphone and immediately looks agitated.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWho is it?\u201d My aunts ask simultaneously.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMalek,\u201d Mom says with clear abomination.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That\u2019s my father\u2013a family doctor who was married to my mother for fourteen years. Then something happened to him. He cheated on Mom. He tried to apologize and reconcile but Mom was unforgiving. She is a person of character and dignity. Such a break of trust is an irreconcilable offense to her.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cwhat does he want?\u201d Grandma never liked Dad. She openly calls him a thug and womanizer.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Aunt Lipi shrugs. \u201cIt\u2019s Tara\u2019s birthday. As her father, he has the right to come to see her. Doesn\u2019t he?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Grandpa likes Dad. He mumbles, \u201cLet the guy in. Let him see his daughter.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Grandma gives him a nasty look making him nervously move away. \u00a0He has lived decades with four women\u2013a dominating wife and three controlling daughters. He knows the art of handling them. Drop your head and run!
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mom makes a face that exhibits disgust and goes to answer the door. Aunt Rita helps me to get seated. I can\u2019t believe how weak I have become. Doctors found something in my lungs as a result of COVID. That must be the culprit! I wait for my father. Despite all his downsides, his love for me is pure and unwavering, I can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Aunt Rita\u2019s husband Uncle Belal and Aunt Lipi\u2019s husband Uncle Lokman has been sitting in the living room. One of them must have opened the door for Dad. Halfway down the corridor that leads to the front door, Mom finds herself facing Dad. \u201cWho said you could come in?\u201d she snaps.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u201cI just wanted to see Tara,\u201d Dad quietly says. \u201cToday is her birthday!\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLokman Bhai, you shouldn\u2019t have let him in,\u201d Mom berates Uncle Lokman.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI am sorry\u2026\u201d Uncle Lokman says apologetically.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mom can be quite terrifying when irritated.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dad gets a glimpse of me and waves. Mom quickly stands in front of him, blocking his view and way. \u201cJust give me the gifts and leave. I\u2019ll give them to her.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou won\u2019t even let me see her?\u201d Dad sounds heartbroken. \u201cYou know, I have visiting rights.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou do, don\u2019t you?\u201d Mom mocks him. \u201cFive minutes. After that, I want to see your ass out of my house. You are a bad influence on her.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dad isn\u2019t perfect. Far from it. Besides being a cheater he is also addicted to gambling and possibly does drugs too. Mom tolerated him for many years but when his affair with a nurse got publicized putting her in an insanely embarrassing situation she called it a quit.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dad brought a large bouquet of white roses, my favorites, and the latest MacBook Pro. I asked Mom for a new low-end laptop a few days back. She must have passed it on. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf you need anything you let me know, okay Mamoni?\u201d Dad says.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I take the bouquet and nod silently. I don\u2019t show much emotional attachment to him in Mom\u2019s presence. It upsets her. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNow you should leave,\u201d Mom demands. \u201cOr do you want a piece of cake too?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf he is already here let him have a meal with us,\u201d Grandpa appeals.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The uncles mumble their support from a distance only to draw glares from their spouses. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo way,\u201d Aunt Rita vehemently opposes. \u201cHe cheated Apu! God knows with how many women! Did I ever mention that he even used to flirt with me?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAre you out of your mind?\u201d Grandma chides her. \u201cHow can you bring this up in front of the kids? Let\u2019s go in that room.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The ladies shove Dad into the study room and shut the door. Mom apologetically shows me five fingers\u2013 meaning five minutes\u2013 before disappearing inside. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I chuckle. With all his mischiefs Dad is still quite likable and easygoing. Who else would have agreed to be pulled into that erupting volcano? Grandpa and the uncles glance at each other apprehensively before making their way back to the living room.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I quietly sit, listening to the muffled chaos coming out of the study. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The teenage boy who was playing PlayStation with Ronny, suddenly approaches me, hesitantly. He looks to be of my age, lanky with a deep brown face and a pair of kind eyes. Now he looks a tiny bit familiar. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou don\u2019t remember me?\u201d the boy says. \u201cI am Roy. We went to the same elementary school.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 With a little more effort, I remember Roy. This is the boy who used to be wide-eyed every time he saw me. My friends used to tease me suggesting he was my boyfriend. He was too quiet and we barely spoke. Later his family moved, forcing him to go to a different school.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I struggle to find something appropriate to say. \u201cI remember.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 This recognition brings a big smile to his face. \u201cI came with your aunt Rita. She is my mom\u2019s friend.\u201d \u00a0He explains his presence. \u201cI heard you are not attending classes anymore,\u201d he says after a moment’s silence.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I nod. \u201cToo weak. Long Covid.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI heard. Everybody calls you COVID girl. Not in a bad way.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I know. It still hurts. Makes me feel like a virus\u2013scary, painful.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAunt Rita said today is your birthday,\u201d Roy says with a glitter in his eyes. \u201cI begged her to bring me. Wanted to see you and um\u2026 return something that belongs to you.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He proceeds to take out a small envelope from his pocket and hands it over to me. Surprised, I hesitantly take it and open it to find a red hair clip. I used to wear them in elementary school. I had a bunch of them. Accompanying the clip is a small piece of paper with an email address.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I mutely ask him what is this all about. He blushes. \u201cOne of your hair clips. Found it on the school grounds. I kept it. I shouldn\u2019t have.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I can\u2019t stop the smile that spreads through my face. I had no idea I had a secret admirer who had been hanging on to a mere hair clip that I lost a long time ago. I swung the paper with the email address. Who gives a girl an email address?
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIf you feel lonely write me,\u201d he says sheepishly.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Before I can say anything the close-door meeting breaks up and pours out my dad, mom, aunts, and grandma. The women look somewhat pacified. My dad looks a little red but happy to be allowed to stay for dinner. No doubt he was subjected to some amount of jostling in there. At their sight, Roy quickly retreats to the video game.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 For the rest of the evening, things get hectic. After a little while, I feel so tired and out of breath that I have to retire to my room to rest. I don\u2019t get a chance to find out more about Roy.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 For a 15-year-old curiosity can be a killer. After much thought, I text Aunt Rita a week later asking about Roy. Her reply shocks me.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Roy\u2019s parents died of COVID-19 just about a year ago. He along with his two younger siblings was staying with an aunt. On the day of my birthday, her aunt left him with Aunt Rita because she had to take the other kids to a kids’ program. What surprises me most is the fact that Roy has gone to India to stay with his affluent grandparents as his aunt is unable to support all three orphaned siblings.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I realize why he shared his email address. He knew his phone number would change. I\u2019ve been feeling so pitiful about myself, Roy gives me a new vantage point. I sent him a short email.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Why didn\u2019t you tell me about your parents?<\/em>
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>His response came a day later.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Covid girl! You wrote to me!<\/em><\/td><\/tr><\/tbody><\/table><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"