From Ground Zero

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?

18^th August 2018