Thursday, May 14, 2009

Camouflaged in a Black Glass

14:00 hrs IST: 21 killed as cyclonic storm hits Kolkata..(I get a call from my friend telling me to stay put!)
15:30 hrs IST: Worst storm in 20 years hits Kolkata..(Cellular Network lost)
15:50 hrs IST: Two people including me try to brave the storm. We find a lone taxi standing. We hire it. But alas! it cannot reach my place. Tree trunks lie everywhere preempting any movement of vehicles.

16:30..31.... I get out of the cab and start walking.
Somewhere in midst of a storm outside, I felt the futility of a mere black umbrella against a behemoth of a kind. A similar kind of feeling delved into my thoughts and that was for myself, I suppose. Ah Boy! Leave that euphemism aside.

The sky was already looking ominous, perhaps with a streak of prophetic entanglement. The trees started swaying with the wind, but it was in anguish rather. I could not hear them cry, but I could rather see it through the wind. The view through nakedness looked like one through a pair of black sunglasses, with the lenses having an exceptional defect of optical aberration. At that point, I happened to realize that my fate could be no more optimistic than that of the trees and then even a bigger fact that I did not seem to care about it any longer. I was still walking, unaware and unconcerned of the distance left to cover. Trees had crashed into their own species, stray inanimate cars, man-made obelisks in a theme park and then, I saw some survivors scampering ahead of me in godspeed hurry. A little while later, I witnessed an unusual sight: A girl picking up flowers from a fallen tree and a boy holding up an umbrella above her head with a precious meticulousness. Although, the rain was falling at a near horizontal angle. A tinge of a faint smile came to my lips, with a silent wish, "Careful! Dolts."

I could see a gigantic tree trunk lying ahead of me and it stuck my mind like some paralyzing force with a trace of wistful longing. I did not want to go ahead nor I wanted to admit the unverified veracity to myself. I took a few steps that exhibited my reluctance to continue yet my steps goaded me to carry on. I could get under the log with an aching screech coming from my backpack which had rubbed against the wood.

Sometimes in life, a devastating force is all that what serves to make equilibrium with a forsaken will. The living force needs to serve its own verve to make it worth living. I could get the portentous message: "Be the change you want." Thinking of my dreams and fleets, I started running among hushing inhabitants. I needed this life as badly as the storm and perhaps as exuberantly as its intensity. I reached the house marked "11" and barged into it through the front door. I felt the gloom gradually clinging to evanescence as I fell asleep in the couch..

No comments:

Post a Comment