DOOMSDAY
14 June 2009
Hi Ash,
What’s up, bud? Hope you’re enjoying your time in Kolkata - well, the catch being whether you can really enjoy in the weather that is prevalent here. Still, we human beings somehow find means of cosseting ourselves in pleasures, however small. Isn’t that what differentiates us from the rest of the living world?
From weather, I can’t help mentioning that formidable mother of disaster, the cyclone Aila. Goodness gracious, what an experience it was. I don’t know about you, but as far as I am concerned this was my first tryst with a climatic calamity of any sorts (barring earthquakes, the worst of which I have seen during my childhood). As mentioned in the Bible, it appeared as if the ‘floodgates of the Heaven’ had been opened. The mild winds turned into a torrent of immense vigour. The same breeze, that fetches us the much needed relief from the scorching heat of the summers, had somehow forsaken its abetting nature & had embraced the temperament of a giant hell-bent upon annihilating everything that hindered its path. 
The state of the roads was even direr. Large trees, that had proudly withstood the assault of minor rains & thunderstorms, uprooted from their foundations, lay helplessly on the roads, thus blocking them. The sides of the roads, which had been invariably lined with small stalls & booths selling everything from food-items, cigarettes, candies and SIMs, appeared uncannily clear. The impermanent planks or sheets of the walls of those stalls had been blown away by the outrageous gush of the high speed wind. Abandoned in a hurry, they had been victim of the nonchalance of their masters. The cyclone not only blew away the shops, but also thwarted the hopes & aspirations of families associated.
The rush of the people on the roads was even more extraordinary. With the declaration of an emergency holiday by the government, it appeared as if someone had hurled a stone at a bee-hive. Huge flock of people poured out onto the streets from offices, institutes, schools & colleges. Everyone wanted to reach the safe havens of their home as soon as possible. After all, everyone wants their loved ones near them at the time of calamity. Even the safest of places cannot give you the same sense of relief that being in your own home in such a situation provides. The home, after all, is special.
But this congregation made the matters worse. The buses came packed to the brim. There were no empty taxis or autos available. Moreover, the speed of the wind was increasing minute by minute. Standing beside the road, waiting for my bus, I was thinking how the hell I would reach home in case I couldn’t get a bus. I was completely drenched in the downpour & the gush of the wind was not allowing me to stand steady at one place. It was as if fifty men were pushing at my back at the same time.
Even in such a dismal situation, I couldn’t help smiling at the way people were coping up with the cyclone. The few people who tried to counter the cyclone with their tiny umbrellas soon learnt of the futility of their attempts. There was a lady who was trying her hand at many tasks at one time at this point of emergency. Talking with somebody on a cellphone in one hand, she was trying to control both the umbrella in her other hand and the shroud wrapped around her neck. The umbrella, in the excitement of the moment, abandoned its age old disposition of convexity, and became concave. Even the shroud of the lady, weary of its delicate mistress, was trying to soar high in the sturdy arms of Aila. The lady, it seemed as if, was unaware of the misery of the circumstances, for it appeared that she was busy in a frivolous talk with her beloved.
Apart from her, there were some school children who were much too happy to get a chance to drench themselves in the downpour. Hurling the dirty waters of the mud pools at each other, they didn’t seem to be in a hurry to reach home.
I was too involved in watching those children. Suddenly, my absorption was broken by a shivering voice from my back. I turned back. Standing before me, there was an old man, perhaps in his sixties, with an umbrella in his hand & a bag over his shoulder. He was asking me the time. I told him the time. He smiled at me & complained about the weather. I smiled back at him & replied how I had been standing there for the past twenty minutes with no bus in sight. This small courtesy on my part started a string of conversation. He told me about his job as a lecturer at some college for past 25 years and of his family of two sons both of whom had settled outside Bengal & a wife who must be desperately waiting for her husband to return home. I asked him whether his sons come to visit him often. He said they do but only once in a year during the Durga puja. I listened to him intently, picturing the loneliness of this old couple in a house bereft of the laughter of their grandchildren & the candid converse of their sons & their respective wives. Life had been good to him, he said, the only fear being what will happen to his wife in case anything happens to him. I was speechless. I had no idea what to say, so I gave him a smile. A smile that conveyed that I understood. I do not know whether he realized it, but the next question was for me. I told him about myself & my family. How I was working & sending money back home. I do not know why but he was very pleased with my answer. “May God bless you,” he said.
Suddenly, a joy spread over his face. I turned my head in the direction he was looking. 71A – this was the number on the bus. He bid me good-bye and put his hand on my head. “Always respect your parents & give them love & a little of your time. They deserve it.” These were his final words before he climbed onto the bus & was lost in the crowd in the bus. I stood there, looking at the bus until it completely vanished from my sight, unaware that the rains were beating on my face.
Not long after that, I saw my bus coming. Luckily, it was not as packed as I had imagined. Hopefully I got an empty seat in the bus. And as it happens ofttimes, the sense of security brings to your mind a ceaseless stream of isolated thoughts. I thought how calamities can bring together completely unknown people & make friends out of them. The old man & I, maybe both of us wait for our respective buses at the same spot everyday. If we had met on any other day, possibly we would have just passed by each other, completely oblivious of the life of the other. But this thunderstorm, this cyclone tied the knot of acquaintance between us. I think we, sometimes, desperately need someone who will just listen to us without judging us. Perhaps, the old man would have been happy talking to this stranger who not only listened to him but also sympathized with him. Even I felt a sense of contentment that I was doing something worthy of appreciation. And his counsel – I will never forget it till the end of my life. And neither should you, Ash.
I must say I was relieved on reaching my home. The severe thunderstorm had resulted in a power-cut. So, there prevailed a pitch-black darkness in my house. But still the sense of being at home was much too lifting to be dampened by such trivialities. I called my friends to make sure they are safe. We shared our experiences, laughing & making jokes over the phone. And at last, I also called my parents to tell them I am safe, all the while thinking about the old man.
The destruction wreaked by Aila on Kolkata was there to see the next day. As if the sights I had seen were not enough, the newspapers were filled with pictures of the victims of the cyclone. I thought - if a mere ten hours of cyclone can bring such devastation upon a city like Kolkata, what of those areas that were still far from the magic touch of the urban revolution, where even the basic amenities of the cities were a thing of luxury. And unknown to me, my most dreaded nightmares were taking shapes far away somewhere in the deltas of the surging Ganga & colossal Brahmaputra. The virgin beauty of the Sunderbans was being ravaged by the merciless Aila.
Whatever, with the government still trying to rehabilitate those displaced from their homes by the cyclone, the least we can do is send them help of any sorts. I have done so & believe that you have done the same.
What were your experiences during the storm, Ash? Did anything extra-ordinary happen with you? If yes, then I would love to listen to them. And as I have told you many times, I have got no problems listening even to your jabbering (in which I am an expert). Keep smiling & sustain the patience that you have shown till now. Looking forward to your reply.
With lots of love,
Only yours,
Ascetic Wanderer
Ascetic Wanderer
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