Suvexa's Story
A journey cut short. A tire puncture. The journey never fully completed. Goodbye. This agony is beyond what I can take, I muttered under my voice. The pain of leaving what has taken so much time to love. The pain of this precious time with people that I care so much about being robbed by uncontrollable fate. The pain of countless opportunities being lost. I sat on my bed with suitcases on the floor, regretting all the things I did and did not do while at United world college USA. Salty water trickled down my cheeks, eyes so swollen that blinking felt like a nightmare. Is this what hell feels like? But how privileged of me to think that this is the worst that could happen. Yes, my feelings were valid. The sense of loss, the grieving, they were all valid. But something I realized as I took a detour from the initial path, was that this was temporary, while others are facing more permanent repercussions of the pandemic.
I flew out of New Mexico and set foot in NewYork which was then climbing the charts to become the next epicenter of the virus. The pandemic turned more and more into a reality in my fairytale mind as I witnessed the city that never slept sleeping like a baby. The roads clear with nothing but red blue sirens wailing calling out for help. I had to quickly get a ticket to Nepal as my country planned on shutting down all travels. I flew from one airport to another, with a constant fear clinging on to me like a parasite. Apprehension mixed with sleep deprivation and travel tiredness creeped into the veins of my body making a perfect storm for an anxiety attack. I persisted.
I landed in my home country Nepal. The Kathmandu dust had surprisingly settled. Seeing my parents physically after 8 months. I wished to touch them. Hug them. But my conditions put me 2 meters away. Separated by a glass door, I was in quarantine. While in quarantine, I stumbled upon a video about the increase in the numbers of domestic violence cases due to social distancing in China. Curious and saddened I searched for more articles on this issue. Nothing.
Something that United World College has curated in me is a sense of deep compassion and sympathy. UWC has sharpened my skill of recognizing and acknowledging others and their circumstances. On a campus, with students from more than 90 countries and diverse backgrounds, one goes through a life-altering experience. Perhaps this high was also the reason why I felt so much anguish when I had to leave UWC midway. But while UWC spawns a bubble where perfection is a norm. It also doesn’t fail to remind us about how we can change the harsh struggles of today.
With that in mind, My keyboard started ticking, my screen started to fill with words of concern, words of encouragement, and words of aid. I published my first article about domestic violence during this pandemic in Nepali Times. As the numbers of shares ameliorated the joy of this achievement became an escape route, away from the grim possibility that I might have caught the virus on my way back.
However, this momentary feeling of exhilaration was shushed by the news that brought back a sense of panic. My aunt who I had stayed with for 2 days when I was in New York called with a reported high fever and headaches. Deja Vu, as I sat on the bed I regretted all the interaction I had with my family. I was separated by a glass door which was fragile enough to crack because of temptation. Could I have caught the virus and in ignorance passed it on to my family? The feeling of guilt crawled under my skin. The news arrived five days later. My aunt was tested positive. I had just finished my quarantine and touched my family. All I wanted to do was to give love and here I was standing in a pool of doubt. Was it actually a deadly virus disguised as love. But again, that momentary doubt was cleared with the recovery of my aunt and the lack of any substantial symptoms in my family. The sigh of relief was finally exhaled when I saw the negative line in the rapid test for SARS COV-2.
This whole journey has been a circular roller coaster. With high ups and downs. With its stops and speeds. But in the end, I am back in UWC again. The experience is now limited to a 13 inches screen but still in existence. As I direct my pointer to the ‘leave session’ button I get reminded of the gratitude I have for all that I have and the unprecedented swifts our lives have taken because of this pandemic, in a span of just one month.