From Ground Zero
It came crashing down, relentless, unwavering in intent, the
earth’s bowls filled up and more spilling onto adjoining streams, rivulets,
rivers, finally encroaching embankments to rush into the drawing rooms of
unsuspecting folks making them refugees in the places where they had hung out
their egos just the other day to dry, all within viewing distance of neighbours
and towns folk.
Streets that crisscrossed the rural landscape with its
smoothness the pride of road users lay in tatters, spoilt by the brutal force
that accompanied the floods. The electricity relay posts that provided succor
to travellers and pedestrians alike during moonless nights lay toppled, wires
mangled and in ruins.
The streets a gross reminder of the havoc that the menacing waters
had endowed on this sleepy rural landscape. Walls that were lined up parallel
to the never ending roads lay eroded by the water that had swirled around it
for a good amount of time. The erosion seemed akin to rodents nibbling away at
a piece of bread that was not to their liking.
Bamboo and other pieces of wood lay abandoned on the streets
a reminder of the human effort that went in to assuage the feelings of the
marooned. Some found in them a bounty waiting to be taken home to be used at
home or to light the fire. The plantain tree stumps that were readily cut and
tied into a makeshift raft the only ones left untouched.
Gigantic church structures that were built on reputations and
egos but scantly used in proportion turned into camps to house the temporarily
displaced. Eager men and women hung out on its verandah looking at the receding
waters as a runner awaiting the starting gun.
Children lazed around oblivious of the turmoil around them thanking
their stars at this unscheduled picnic.
Supermarkets and grocery shops vandalized systematically of
its goods by the queue of people fearing shortage in the immediate days ahead.
Petrol pumps with their overworked staff and near rioting crowds tugging their
unending line of vehicles, adding to the uncertainty of the morrow. Some
refusing to go away even after an ‘out of stock’ board is displayed.
The uncertainty propels the calm and analytical beings into
action stocking up for the rough ahead with rations and supplies that would
make life easy after the enduring pain of the past few days. The rescue workers
and civic workers being the only exception with their sights on the job at
hand.
While transformers and electric lines and poles lost the
battle with nature’s forces, few remember that electricity has been disrupted
during this period. There are so many woes to count that the relative comfort
of living with uninterrupted electricity flow doesn’t seem worrisome even
though direct fallout would be absence of television entertainment at home. But
when it is restored a loud cheer goes up simultaneously from all corners as if
the national team has just hit the winning runs.
The mobile towers stand stoic and stonily in the face of
various assaults of nature and remain the last man standing in this battle of
wits. However even though the poles remain strong and unwavering, the
connectivity has gone missing. With fading battery backup, people resorted to
turning on the generator sets in religious places to charge their mobiles.
On days when the absence of telephone connectivity and
electricity crushes ones ego we now take solace in the days of yore when there
was no telephone, entertainment through television and no electricity.
Streams of people gather at the ‘water front’ and stare at
the makeshift boats making their errands on the streets that ferried fast
flowing traffic till the other day. Some keep making their way to various
places where the flood had reached and stare at the retreating water as if
looking at a marauding alligator that now lies lifeless.
Once back home they must convey their reporting of the events
and news to their neighbours who did not have the tenacity to make this
waterfront visit. These local news reporters and story tellers fill up for
their immobility relaying their sightings to the folks hungry for information.
In the absence of national news these local neighbours doubling up as reporters
fill the void.
Relatives outside the action zone lucky enough to get in an
odd phone call convey the national news to folk back home making up for the
lack of their entertainment and news. Messages on social media splash names of
officials in action should some deserving soul need them. A national calamity
also makes for one-upmanship with social organizations and churches diving deep
into lending a helping hand.
They are still counting the dead, whereas the countless
maimed will live with it throughout their lives. For the others this will be a
once in a lifetime experience worthy to be narrated to their grandchildren when
the time comes. In a few days the past glory will be restored and life will go
on as of yesterday, pushing this event into the annals of history.
Till the other day we all lived with our head held high and
our chests puffed with pride, but it took the fury of nature to set at rest our
disputes and humble us in our routine for survival- or did it?
18th August 2018
