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Monday, March 21, 2011

CAUCHEMAR*


Contd...

We were almost back to the bus when an angry roar over the drove of the rain reached our ears. The small playful stream had undergone a metamorphosis into a violent and treacherous torrent, its power sending dirty plumes of spray from the submerged rocks which only hours before had been our dry safe passage onwards.

There was to be no crossing there, so we forged to our right and soon reached the banks of the river. The village of Kallar on the bank was silent. It was still raining and everybody was thinking about the possibility of crossing the stream. They had brought a cake to celebrate their class anniversary.

Halting for a moment, we studied the water briefly. At this point it moved downstream but not with the anger and violence which we had just witnessed. As the water level was not so high we thought we could easily scramble through. All of us had no qualms about entering in to the water, the water being below knee level.

A human chain was formed as the river swept around our legs, it pressed against them but the force was easily overcome. Grasping the hands of two of my companions I tested my footing on the uneven riverbed before wedging my sand shoed foot firmly on the next step.

By the middle of the river I had realized that we were moving very slowly. As we proceeded, the water level grew up, the strength of each wave, which hit our legs, increased several folds and by now my friends became tensed and were frightened. By now the villagers who gathered at the banks started shouting, sounding alarm, waving hands exhorting to us come back. This added to their feeling of helplessness, augmented the anxiety and mounted fear. They were all pulled back by some ineffable inertia, started to pray loud calling out the name of the merciful messiah, whom they have never seen, the unfailing trouble-shooter to help them out of their crisis.

I saw Adam, depositing the backpack on a large rock. He left the thing to try to help the hesitant to cross. The urgency of the situation pressed on to me. I still remember the moment with horror, the rain drenched atmosphere my friends immobile praying loudly; the villagers adding to the distress, shouting, crying, hysterical women waving their hands frantically. I couldn’t escape the panic, which had started to take hold of me, and adrenaline was coursing through my body. Then my recollections from this point were disjointed. My sense of time was totally impaired. All I knew is that they were frightened. We reached the bank of the swollen river. I saw Adam’s back pack being washed away from its perch.

I heard Adam shouting at Anne to stay where she was. The rock in the middle was now the only safe place in the river. The rapidly rising water had cut off both advance and retreat. I stood in the water, though deep, at the bank. I felt so helpless. Ropes were being thrown but were falling short. I saw one of my companions holding onto the rope, as it was being pulled towards the shore. As he reached, I put out my hand towards him, which he could take hold of at the precise moment the rope broke, and he was pulled ashore to safely.

I was frantic. A swirling monster laid between me several of my friends. What I could do to help?! I collected all my courage, (the little which still remained). As I lowered myself, I saw with great horror a girl, one of my companions, being swept away, so fast that I could now see a glimpse of her and then, no more….

I then saw another rolling inside the water, submerging and resurfacing. I ran to the small bridge above the river and was about to jump into the water when he held on to a tree trunk that hung on to the river.

I saw Anne struggling with her backpack. She threw it away as it was dragging her own. She was strong but the awesome power of the enraged river was overcoming her. She had seen others on the rock being, swept away. Some were rescued, others not.

I was trying to pull out the others remaining on the rock. A gush of water broke over the top, washing them off and I saw Anne caught in the current racing down stream.

Adam shouting at the top of his voice, rushed, snatched a rope lying at the shore, sprinted towards the bridge trying to do something. All the time he was screaming and praying. He rescued four of our companions.

Anne, had been swept straight towards a man hanging from a tree branch. She caught on to him with both arms and one of my helpless companions, got hold of Anne, grabbing only her clothes. Her shorts were ripped off and a sudden wave hit her, and she was swept away. Anne with the help of two men on the over hanging tree, was rescued and was guided through the branches safely on to the bank.

A kind of reactionary shock got inside me. I was emotionally and mentally blank. I felt strangely thrown out of this world. So alone, speechless and immobile. I was numb and even the fire lit to warm us couldn’t melt the shock of the great tragedy I just witnessed. It swept away the lives of eight of my companions.

Such events occur in every person’s life, at least one incident, when he or she faces his or her helpless human self. And this is one such incidence for me when I saw death so close, in its most menacing manner. Few years later, I went to Kallar, the memories of that dark Sunday very much fresh in mind.

I couldn’t help thinking, with a tinge of regret, that this beautiful place would only evoke sad memories in me. The Kallar flowed quietly with remarkable innocence…. a silent witness to many shattered dreams…  “C’est la vie!”

*Nightmare
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2 comments:

  1. Agastyamala are the hills east of Trivandrum (Thiruvananthapuram) city, covered with many of medicinal herbs and plants, which are a boon to the sick for its curative powers. Flowing down from these mountains are the Kallar, Karamana, Kiliyar etc… They flow gently down mostly except when there is a cloudburst at the top of the hills. As we stood on the banks of the river at that spot, we saw the rocks jutting out and they seemed like the tombstones in a cemetery and we thought and we thought one could read the names of those eight companions. We stood there awhile till the tears trickled down to mingle with the gently flowing Kallar, which seemed to say…

    “One day we shall meet on that Beautiful Shore”

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  2. This is a saddening account of nature underestimated by man; friendships immortalized by death. We are so much more vulnerable than we think. Humans are made of flesh and blood. Tayt

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