THERE I WAS — dripping wet and stranded in the middle of a rain-drenched C R Avenue desperately looking for a cab, clutching the soggy office bag and a wind-ravaged umbrella in my hands. But as luck would have it, the hunt for one of those yellow cars was increasingly proving elusive. Finding no other option, I started walking towards the metro station. The rain, bucketing down incessantly since morning, showed no signs of retreat. In fact, with every passing second it poured with renewed vigour. Along with the shower came strong gusty wind, shaking the roots of the city. The sky, masked in thick grey clouds added even more to the doomsday feeling. The mighty skyscrapers suddenly seemed so weak and frail, petrified of the approaching disaster. The rain-bathed streets too looked unusually deserted.
Nevertheless I walked along, ignoring the rain and the wind. The metro station was a ten-minute walk from there and I was barely twenty paces away. That was the moment ‘it’ happened! The rain stopped falling, clouds forgot to rumble, the streets gasped in astonishment, cars didn’t move, people stopped walking — everything came to a standstill. That was the moment I saw her. I saw Aila!
May 25, 2009 — a day every Kolkatan will remember for a long time to come. It was the day our vocabulary got enriched by a new word. It was the day we understood how it feels like being struck by catastrophe... It was the day Aila happened. A relatively unknown cyclone originating from the Bay of Bengal stormed our city and left it completely ravaged. The consequence: Kolkata was AILAshed (another new word, thanks to TOI). And I, like many other Kolkatans, was a spectator to the devastation.
The moment I ‘saw’ Aila — or to be precise, the moment I felt the intensity of the cyclone — was a to-hell-and-back experience for me, literally. Although the downpour coupled with chaotic wind continued throughout the day, there were times when the wind seemed to vent its centuries-old fury on the city. I, unfortunately, was caught in such a moment. As I was approaching the metro station, a gust of wind came and blew almost everything off the ground. So monstrous was its strength that I stood there absolutely motionless, not being able to move forward. I teetered, my legs started trembling. Unable to resist the thrust of the storm, I almost fell down on the road (had I been a little leaner, I would surely have blown over by the wind!). I held the umbrella as a shield, but that poor little thing was no match against the might of the wind. Seconds later, my umbrella was reduced to a mesh of black cloth and entangled metal rods. The trees in front of me swayed vehemently like a possessed soul. It was as if someone was shaking them violently in a fit of rage. The advertisement billboards that adorned the skyline could nowhere be seen. Only the iron frames remained, crushed into folds. The huge vinyl sheets, now tattered and uprooted from the frames, rolled in the streets.
My heart began to pound. I panicked! And strangely enough, for the first time in my life, I felt the strongest urge to get back to the place where I’ll be the safest person in the world — my home.
Three weeks have passed. Aila is now history. But the Kolkata I had seen on that day was a nightmare. The images of uprooted trees, mashed tin roof of shops, snapped electric wires embracing the fallen trees, shredded billboards and crashed cars will remain etched on my memory forever. The way my beloved city was rampaged, I pray we never have to relive those moments again. However today when I look back, the Aila-experience doesn’t send shivers down my spine. Instead, it appears to be quite thrilling a journey — fighting my way through the storm! But then that’s how life is. With time, the horror of even the worst disaster gradually fades away. What remains is the resonance.
Don’t believe me? Well, the very next day after Aila as I tuned in the radio, an FM station was playing a special Aila-song for its listeners:
Aila re, ladki mast mast tu, Aila re...
Showing posts with label Monsoon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monsoon. Show all posts
Meghdootam
Pehli pehli baarish ki chheetein, pehli baarish bheege ho ho...
HAVE YOU EVER danced to this lilting Saathiya track? I’m sure you have. But then every song has a distinct mood and atmosphere associated with it. Just like you can’t play a Jai Santoshi Ma at the disc or a Beedi jalaile during the Republic Day celebration, this song too needs the right ambience to evoke its passionate charm.
Wondering what that picture-perfect setting would be? Well, let’s visualize a shot of the first monsoon day of the season. It’s raining cats and dogs outside accompanied by strong gusty winds. Venue: the roof terrace of a multi-storeyed. Enter hero and heroine, or more specifically, you and your girlfriend (for girls reading this, please change the gender). There’s no one else to be seen — just the two of you getting drenched in the sudden shower. In the background lies the rain-soaked skyline. Then lights, camera, music... and voila! Aye udi udi udi, aye khwabon ki buri... you’ll be amazed to find that you have already started grooving to the music — your feet following the rhythm and your heart humming the tune (those who are single, try out this song in the bathroom while taking a shower. It works. Trust me.)!
That’s the beauty of monsoon. It can turn the most insipid situation into a memorable one. May be I’m a bit exaggerating, but what else can I possibly do? I’m a die-hard rain-lover after all (I was perhaps a peacock in my previous birth)! Recently I had an hour-long rain bath in the year’s first kalbaisakhi that drenched Kolkata to a T. A few days later when I went to Delhi, lo and behold, the rains chased me there as well. This time it was a hailstorm!
The Kolkata kalbaisakhi has truly been an unforgettable experience. As soon as the storm broke, I went straight to the terrace, my camera in hand. Ignoring the high velocity of winds, I managed to get a few photographs that have turned out to be quite fascinating. Naturally, I had an overwhelming desire to share them! So here they are, categorized under the series Meghdootam (the name was too tempting to resist. Any resemblance to Kalidas's epic is entirely intentional and not coincidental!). Out of the five, the first three have been shot from my terrace during the kalbaisakhi and the other two were taken during my last trip to Ooty. As the monsoon is just round the corner, here’s a precursor to the celebration of the beautiful season ahead. Enjoy!
Swept away
Blowing in the wind
The sliver lining
Barso re...
HAVE YOU EVER danced to this lilting Saathiya track? I’m sure you have. But then every song has a distinct mood and atmosphere associated with it. Just like you can’t play a Jai Santoshi Ma at the disc or a Beedi jalaile during the Republic Day celebration, this song too needs the right ambience to evoke its passionate charm.
Wondering what that picture-perfect setting would be? Well, let’s visualize a shot of the first monsoon day of the season. It’s raining cats and dogs outside accompanied by strong gusty winds. Venue: the roof terrace of a multi-storeyed. Enter hero and heroine, or more specifically, you and your girlfriend (for girls reading this, please change the gender). There’s no one else to be seen — just the two of you getting drenched in the sudden shower. In the background lies the rain-soaked skyline. Then lights, camera, music... and voila! Aye udi udi udi, aye khwabon ki buri... you’ll be amazed to find that you have already started grooving to the music — your feet following the rhythm and your heart humming the tune (those who are single, try out this song in the bathroom while taking a shower. It works. Trust me.)!
That’s the beauty of monsoon. It can turn the most insipid situation into a memorable one. May be I’m a bit exaggerating, but what else can I possibly do? I’m a die-hard rain-lover after all (I was perhaps a peacock in my previous birth)! Recently I had an hour-long rain bath in the year’s first kalbaisakhi that drenched Kolkata to a T. A few days later when I went to Delhi, lo and behold, the rains chased me there as well. This time it was a hailstorm!
The Kolkata kalbaisakhi has truly been an unforgettable experience. As soon as the storm broke, I went straight to the terrace, my camera in hand. Ignoring the high velocity of winds, I managed to get a few photographs that have turned out to be quite fascinating. Naturally, I had an overwhelming desire to share them! So here they are, categorized under the series Meghdootam (the name was too tempting to resist. Any resemblance to Kalidas's epic is entirely intentional and not coincidental!). Out of the five, the first three have been shot from my terrace during the kalbaisakhi and the other two were taken during my last trip to Ooty. As the monsoon is just round the corner, here’s a precursor to the celebration of the beautiful season ahead. Enjoy!
Swept away
Blowing in the wind
The sliver lining
Barso re...
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