Hydroxychloroquine, by Parul Wadhwa, Digital Storytelling Workshop Co-Facilitator

By Parul Wadhwa, San Jose, California, U.S.

My mother was sly as a fox

During sweltering Indian summer afternoons

She trusted Phenergan

To lull my sister’s chatter,

To enjoy the cool air of the electric fan,

To earn that siesta. 

Then,

Summer nights came

With the whiff of jasmine outside in the yard

The mosquitos humming inside.

She was armored

With mask and disinfectants

Stitching and sowing flimsy mosquito nets

For the biting parasites,

For the disease called Malaria.

Then, 

We got a jab on our left arm 

Shooting sharp pain through our veins

Better than Phenergan, said my sister

A BCG vaccine shot

With Hydroxychloroquine, 

Cure for Malaria said my mother.

Then,

Decades later, disease came again

Not a parasite this time, a deadly virus 

This Hydroxychloroquine 

Cure for Corona virus said the President of America.

False claim, it turned out 

This Hydroxychloroquine 

Wasn’t what the latter said

But only what mother said.

I told you, my mother was sly as a fox.