It feels as if death is hanging in the air like a nasty stench. That is the existential dread that the third wave of Covid-19 has saddled us with. Every time my phone rings, I wonder if I will get yet another call about a friend, relative or colleague who is gasping for air. I found myself almost behaving mechanically yesterday as I typed the words “My deepest condolences…” on WhatsApp in response to a friend’s loss that had been sponsored by Covid-19. With the real death toll associated with Covid-19 probably more than 176,000 by now (a figure based on a weekly analysis of excess deaths by the Medical Research Council), the impact of this pandemic on our lives is deeper than official numbers would have us believe. And this is not to include our neglected psychosocial well-being. If there was a way to measure what is happening to the population in terms of mental health, many of us would not only be physically precarious but also psychologically stretched.