'We felt the tremors hundreds of kilometres away, imagine the situation in
Bhuj,' another old man said.
We stood out for an hour. No, the foundation of our building, or for that matter
any in our pol had not come loose. Meanwhile, rumours and gossip spread fast.
Some said more earthquakes could come. Some said India had tested a nuclear
bomb. A few parts of Ahmedabad reported property damage. Stories rippled
through the street.
I re-entered my house after two hours and switched on the TV. Every channel
covered the earthquake. It epicentred in Bhuj, though it affected many parts of
Gujarat.
'Reports suggest that while most of Ahmedabad is safe, many new and
upcoming buildings have suffered severe damage...,' the reporter said as tingles
went down my spine.
'No, no, no...,' I mumbled to myself.
'What?' my mother said as she brought me tea and toast.
'I have to go out.'
'Where?'
'Navrangpura ... now,' I said and wore my slippers. Are you mad?' she said.
'My shop mom, my shop,' is all 1 said as I ran out of the house.
The whole city was shut. I couldn't find any autos or buses. I decided to run
the seven-kilometre stretch. I had to see if my new store was ok. Yes, I just
wanted that to be ok.
It took me an hour to get there. I saw the devastation en-route. The new city
areas like Satellite suffered heavy damage. Almost every building had their
windows broken. Those buildings that were under construction had crumbled to
rubble. I entered Navrangpura. Signs of plush shops lay on the road. I reasoned
that my new, ultra-modern building would have earthquake safety features. I
gasped for breath as I ran the last hundred metres. Sweat covered my entire
body.
Did I miss the building? I said as I reached my lane. The mayhem on the street
and the broken signs made it hard to identify addresses.
I retreated, catching my breath.
'Where is the building?' I said to myself as I kept circling my lane.
I found it, finally. Only that the six storeys that were intact a day ago had now
turned into a concrete heap. I could not concentrate. I felt intense thirst. I looked
for water, but I only saw rubble, rubble and more rubble. My stomach hurt. I
grabbed it with my left hand and sat on a broken bench to keep my
consciousness.
The police pulled out a labourer, with bruises all over. Cement hags had fallen
on him and crushed his legs. The sight of blood made me vomit. No one in the
crowd noticed me. One lakh and ten thousand, the number spun in my head.
Unrelated images of the day my dad left us flashed in my head. Those images
had not come for years. The look on his face as he shut the living room door on
the way out. My mother's silent tears for the next few hours, which continued for
the next few years. I don't know why that past scene came to me. I think the
brain has a special box where it keeps crappy memories. It stays shut, but
everytime a new entry has to be added, it opens and you can look at what is
inside. I felt anger at my dad, totally misplaced as I should have felt anger at the
avery
(avery)
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