I remember waking up on 15 August hearing my mom bustling around.She had to leave to office and I thought it was the usual Independence Day routine.But she came back home days after she left.
Kerala had been flooded.The God’s Own Country just got inundated.
Having no connectivity with my parents,panicking was the logical and inevitable response.But I had a younger sibling and my grandmother and to panic meant to break down.They returned two days after they left and obviously both my comrades had their eyes full of tears.Then I realised I wasn’t on the verge of tears.
I was my sister’s and grandma’s pole of strength and the person I was that day was not somebody I knew.I was confident and aloof.Grim.Neither smiles nor tears came.And I am proud that I did not breakdown the way I usually do.That day I saw the strength and the confidence lying just below the surface,like a back up that activates only when the last unit of power is dead.
My land is just getting back up on its feet.It’s just beginning to smile.Every heart would have a story to tell.Of the smile of a stranger that reassured the wet,shivering kid inside all of us.Of the belief in the humanity.Maybe perils bring out the best in us.