Horrific India scenes a reminder for Australians to not get complacent

Daily Telegraph reporter Angira Bharadwaj is talking to her family in India daily, getting updates as they fight against an horrific COVID-19 outbreak in the country.

It’s 11pm on a Sunday night and my family has just gotten off the phone with their third relative in India for the day.

Each call, a haunting replica of the last: family members on the other side of the line share stories of people roaming the streets through the night to access hospital beds and car parks turning into makeshift crematoriums as the death toll in the country breaks world records daily.

A family friend’s mother has died; her daughter sat clutching the body through the night alone in the country’s capital – there are fears dead bodies can still carry the lingering virus so she wears a mask.

As I write this, my mum has called me in tears that two of her elderly relatives have just tested positive, both in their 80s and already bedridden.

India has more than 2 million active cases of COVID-19, the second-highest number in the world after the U.S. Picture: Anindito Mukherjee/Getty

Another friend we know tells us her entire suburb has fallen prey to the virus and that getting tested feels like a futile exercise.

India has hit the world record for the most COVID-19 cases for four days in a row with 349,691 new cases and 2,767 deaths.

The nation’s total cases have reached almost 17 million and experts say numbers could top 500,000 infections per day before the second wave peaks.

After a successful end of the first wave, people’s complacency has created an apocalypse.

My 79-year-old grandfather runs a charity for the elderly and each day their organisation’s group chat sends me obituaries of members who have perished.

I’ve muted that chat for now because seeing constant notifications about the death of my grandparents’ friends and peers hits too close to home.

Daya (76) getting her second dose of the AstraZeneca jab on April 24 in Lucknow. Picture: Supplied

Vinod (79) getting his second dose of the AstraZeneca jab on April 24 l in Lucknow. Picture: Supplied

These stories aren’t unique to my family – they are widespread in a nation that’s facing record-breaking cases, a rising death toll and a mutating virus.

I moved to Australia as a 10-year-old, and most of my family, including my grandparents and closest aunts and uncles, still call Lucknow in Northern India home.

The helplessness we feel sitting here in the haven of Sydney is hard to describe.

My mum and her sisters have a rotating roster of sorts: they take turns to call my grandparents throughout the day, always filled with anxiety that something might go wrong.

Daily Telegraph Health Reporter Angira Baradwaj. Picture: David Swift

This week the two of them left their apartment in Lucknow’s CBD for the first time in weeks to go get the second dose of the AstraZeneca vaccine – seeing them braving the streets of a city where COVID-19 is so rampant just to get their jabs has provided much needed perspective for our family in Sydney.

Since the community spread subsided in Sydney, I’ve been a part of countless conversations with family and friends discussing if they should delay getting the AstraZeneca vaccine considering news that is has caused fatal clots in a very minimal number of cases worldwide.

Angira and her family in Lucknow, India at her grandparents’ 50th anniversary. Picture: Supplied

There is no COVID here, so why should we risk it – that is the argument that’s been trumpeted by many, and I can see why it’s compelling.

But all it takes is one look at the lives lost in India to help you realise why Australia shouldn’t be pushing its luck with this virus.

The ability to umm and ahh about getting a lifesaving vaccine made by world-leading scientists in the middle of a global pandemic – is rooted entirely in privilege.

Spending my early childhood in India, the concept of questioning vaccinations is entirely foreign to me.

I have vivid memories of government vaccinators coming to my home and giving me the Polio jab.

We were always grateful because you only needed to roam the streets and see the less fortunate who had missed out on the vaccination and lost their arms, legs, sometimes almost entire bodies to Polio.

Polio is now eradicated in India because of the widespread vaccinations.

Working as a health reporter, I have become acutely aware of how many anti-vaxxers are out there in the community and it’s something I will never understand or accept.

Angira as a kid with her grandparents in Lucknow. Picture: Supplied

As a developed island nation with low population density and good healthcare – Australia has lucked out in the COVID-19 lottery.

But it would be arrogant for us to assume that we as a nation are immune to a second wave which has brought the UK, America, France, and now India to its knees.

Both my parents are now eligible for the vaccine and next week they will be going to their GP to discuss their family medical history, current medications, and their underlying health issues to understand what option is best for them and what the benefits and risks are.

India has broken world records with more than 300,000 cases a day. Picture: Anindito Mukherjee/Getty Images

They will then get their jabs and I can’t wait to get mine later in the year.

Relatives we spoke to last week told us, “We don’t care which vaccine we get. We just want the vaccine, so we have some protection.”

If you’re in two minds about getting the coronavirus vaccine, I urge you to please read about what is happening in India.

I also urge you to speak to your GP about what vaccine you are eligible for and make the choice based on medical advice.

Informed consent and being aware of the risks associated with medicine is central to good healthcare but let’s not confuse cockiness with consent.

Originally published as Horrific India scenes a reminder for Australians to not get complacent