Sweven

3:45 a.m. Buzzing sound. Of course, my alarm! I turn over on the bed and call to my husband in muffled voice. “Bed tea for the queen,”said my husband with a tray in his hand containing biscuits and green tea. I sat up on the bed. He said to me,”Is it necessary, Preet? What about your safety?” He caressed my cheeks very softly. I took his caressing hands in mine and looked deep into his eyes. I began to speak when he hushed me and said,”I know. Country before anything.”

5:00 a.m. “Wait,” my husband shouted. “God damn, when will he stop shouting early in the morning, already we have tonnes of complaint from neighbours,” I muttered under my breath. “Take this,” saying so, he handed me a tiffin box. “Looks like quarantine has made someone learn cooking,” I giggled, adjusting my uniform.

7:00 a.m. Papaji’s house. Everyday I visit Maa and Papaji before going to work. Of course, the first sight I see whenever I enter this house is the shirt in which, is the badge, my father’s identity, Sub-inspector Mannwinder Singh. I smile and go to the bedroom. Papaji is reading excerpts from “Laila Majnu” to my mother. My mother always blushes like a teenage girl whenever he does this. “How is your leg, Papaji?” “As it was 20 years back, DCP madam,” he replied. I smiled. He always teased me calling DCP madam. 20 years back, there was a student protest. It turned so ugly, that Papaji broke his leg and career in the Police Force. Ever since, I have just wanted to be a DCP. My parents opened a bakery at home to provide me best education. And, here I stand.

5:00 p.m. Final patrolling duty. I didnot see anyone on the road today without requirement. I am happy. I acknowledge my colleagues who are there in the Police Van with me for keeping up with me in this pandemic. Just then, I see a boy, of about 15, standing against his bike and smoking. I asked to stop the van and went to him. He looked at me and started running. A few constables who were there with me ran after him. “Why can’t they understand that this is a question of life and death? Why can’t they just stay at their homes?” I muttered under my breath. Just then, there was a shower of rose petals on my head. I looked up and saw a middle-aged woman smiling at me from her balcony. “Preet, you are doing a good work but, unfortunately, I am the reason for your father’s broken leg. I was there in the protest. How will I ever repay the loss I did to your father?” Her voice had almost broken. I smiled and said,”Repaying me is simple. Just stay inside your home and follow WHO tips for COVID-19.

Preet maybe fictional but the problem is real. So, stay at home and follow the guidelines. May God bless all.