It has been a roller coaster of a week for me as, I am sure,
has been for a lot of us whose family dropped out of contact in a flooded
Chennai. A week of unsuccessful, not to
mention, frantic phone calls and whatsapp messages trying to reach the
unreachable. A week of listening to ‘This
route is not available, please try after some time’ in Tamil, English, Kannada,
Telugu and other unidentifiable regional
languages of India leading to the pulling of what little hair was left on my
head.
News of reservoirs being opened to dump excess water, water
entering houses to sweep away hard-earned belongings, cars submerging under
water throughout the city, power outages everywhere….what was, just a week ago,
an active and thriving city turned into a devastation of nightmarish proportion. To one who is averse to checking news of any
form, Facebook was my one point of contact with the real world outside this
past week. Pictures and news of the
devastation poured in through the social media giving my flighty imagination a
boost to soar high.
I imagined my aged parents wading in chest-high water trying
to get in to a rescue boat that the army sent to evacuate the area. I imagined my mom losing balance and falling
in the water. I imagined my Dad holding
a knapsack of his important documents over his head trying to help my mom to
the rescue boat. I imagined my sister
and her kids all alone in a dark house that was slowly filling up with
water. After reading a FB post that said
40 crocodiles had escaped from a nearby park, I imagined the rescue boats on
the streets being escorted by crocodiles on all sides. All in all, I imagined way too much but that
is nothing new. I have been known to
knit a king size blanket from a 2 inch thread all my life. J
What my fertile imagination neglected to show me was the
incredible acts of kindness shown by strangers throughout the state helping one
another. Thanks to FB, I saw people
opening up their homes to give shelter to those that had lost theirs, strangers
cooking and distributing food and medical supplies to all they can, college
students wading in chest high water to rescue people marooned in their
buildings with no food or water. I saw
humanity surface and stand tall against all odds. I saw the rich and the poor work together to
save their city. I read stories of
Hindus and Muslims and Christians and Sikhs working together to provide relief
to those affected around them.
What is it about disasters that bring out the best in us, I
wonder. Why aren’t we able to bond like
this every day and break through the walls of religion, caste and language? Why does it take a devastation of a massive kind
for us to put our differences aside and stand together?
This very moment what do I feel? What am I proud of this day? I am NOT proud to be a Tamilian. I am NOT proud to be an Indian. I am NOT proud to be a Hindu. This day, I am proud to be a part of the
human race. It gives me incredible pride
to stand with those that see the suffering of others and feel their pain. In today’s world of constant chaos, of terrorism
and bickering, I feel hope watching a flood-ravaged city practicing the rules
that Mahatma Gandhi lived by - tolerance, compassion and kindness. It gives me hope for the future.
