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Monday, 19 December 2016

Super Cyclone 1999.

(Those 36 hours and it's after math)

36 hours

Sarita and me were pursuing our PG courses in SCB medical college, Cuttack. We were about to stay in a rented house. Soham was four year old and Sayam seven. We had made a temporary arrangement to keep them in our native place. On 28th October the weather although was dull and windy we did not bother to come with Soham from Jajpur Road to Cuttack at the dusk. My 100 cc Bajaj Kawasaki Champion was not at the best of its health, with dim head light and bore piston malfunction. People used to ignore cyclone warning, we too. With the specialization of TV channels, if not on news warnings were easier to miss. We didn't care the wind. I was about to dash on a stationary truck on the highway. I thought problem was with the bike, not the climactic change.
 Sarita had to dine and collect packs for us, from women's hostel. Leaving her there, we went to our new rented house in Kathagola, at seven minutes walking distance, to utilize the time in house keeping. Most of our belongings including the kitchen logistics were still in our previous work place Khariar, in Nuapada district. Suddenly the situation changed to never seen before strong cyclone. The chance of her coming from the hostel was zero. I hoped to bring her back once the condition permitted. Mobile phones were used only by celebrities at that time.(Within a year or two it became common). There was no sign of any change and was difficult to guess if it's magnitude was increasing or decreasing. From the sky light on the east the rain water was pouring down indicating the direction of wind. We moved to the West facing relatively dry room.
My son repeated again, "Bapa, voka( father I am hungry)". There was nothing in the house, whatever we brought from home was in Sarita's hand bag. After a point it was not possible to keep him quite. The maternal instinct silent in the father came to the forefront. Just across the corridor, the tenant was another doctor, Aliva, alone at her late stage of pregnancy. I wanted to beg some food. I could open the door against the force of the wind and rain on my third and determined attempt. Knocked her door. She had some constraints too, being a busy student and dependent on hostel meals. She shared one of the only two packets of biscuits, she had. Both of us doctors looked suggestively at her protruding belly as I received it. I felt guilty at the same time relieved. Soham went on, one by one. Just before he finished I sensed, I too was very hungry and hoped he left a piece. He was too young to do that. I managed.                                                                                                                             There was no sign of weakening of the cyclone. I hoped my wife in the hostel and all of my family members with my elder son were safe, so also the public. Well past midnight the caretaker of the building, a constable in the fire brigade office came from the ground floor to beg a room for the local people whose houses got damaged. There were no casualties of course. Permission ought to be a formality only.
The whole night passed but neither the darkness in the closed house nor the terrible sound of devastation had any sign to recede. My son was hungry again, "Bapa voka". But he didn't demand. He could sense there was no possibility of his mother coming back soon. At about eleven AM all people went amidst the dangerous storm to find out their damaged houses.                                       The man from the ground floor knocked again. This time he brought a temple size rice on a big plate with a fried whole tomato and Dal. He had already served Aliva. I ensured my son should be taking his stomach full before I started. Stomach is an elastic container and hunger is the best curry. Any mother would be happy to know, Soham went on eating without any story or rhyme or pushing through. He of course could not finish all, leaving manageable amount for me, one of the best offer received ever.                                                                                                                                       How the parents share food with children in famine like scarcity! Did the mother and father respond differently! Too uncomfortable a question! I tried to impress my son again and again that the cyclone would calm down very soon.                                                                                                                  In 1971 I was of his age when a big cyclone devastated Odisha. I faintly recollected, it was over by this time duration.                                                                                                                                     In the afternoon the cyclone returned from west. Those people returned back. They had not gone anywhere beyond the ground floor. Change of wind direction did not allow their stay there, that opened towards west. I didn't not raise the topic of their house or what did they eat. Had not the guts.

 There was no sign of any deceleration. Now the Western room was wet and windy. We moved back to the other room. I felt hungry again but Soham no more pleaded his fruitless demand to eat. It was evening. He didn't sleep for last one day.                                                                                        Would it be the ultimate Pralaya or Quamat!                                                                                            I had night medical emergency duty in labour room. I got concerned without common sense that the last night's emergency group were trapped in their respective duty places and chances of patients coming to Labour room was remote. Probably I might not have imagined that whatever may be the situation mothers anywhere must be labouring to bring out the new, no cyclone had the power to stop that.
 The night arrived, none uttered a word to interfere the roar of the nature.
There was no chance of anymore food coming from ground floor. The full force of the cyclone now might be knocking their door in the ground floor.
 A never felt before calmness without concern of anything or any responsibility, any ability or capability prevailed. Helplessness became helpless and went away. Soham was quite. With this situation the night passed.
 Next morning it seemed the velocity is decreasing. We still had doubt. No it really started decelerating on 30th October morning. Almost after 36 hours, it was possible on part of Sarita to come with several packs of first to collect food items to combat the uncertainty.
 The local people went back to knit their threads of revival. We were no different. I moved outside, to report in Labour Room, to collect petrol, to collect further food and to collect news. There was no news from my home or from any relations. .. After effects to be continued ....
                (This write up is meaningful, the author wrote it while spending time at the proximity of his Guruji Sri Manoj Das)

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