Each cyclone has a mind of its own; you can accurately predict its magnitude, but not the damage it could cost on its landfall. It could be less, or it could be graver than you expected. Taking adequate measures to reduce the impact of the destruction is all the authorities could do. Vizag too is biting nails, waiting anxiously for Hudhud, who would bump onto it in countable hours. Fishermen evacuated, rescue shelters set up, food and clothes stored, ships and helicopters deployed for rescue and relief operations... Navy, police and the forces are leaving no stones unturned during the preparatory drill. The cyclone is no breeze. I am sitting here at home, windows and doors ajar, except for a window pane I have kept open to gaze at the sea, waiting for my first cyclone experience. The jade green sea is hazy and rough; its raining intermittently. My heart goes to those whose livelihood is set to go with the winds. The inundation, power outages, closed shops, falling houses, trees, walls, the damp restlessness of the newly-homeless, the sighs of having to start from the scratch... a mild tension is throbbing at the bottom layers of the citys heart. Now and then at intervals between the rains, a wet crow, or a koel, flaps in search of a better shelter. I am poignant if the lone palm on the sands, which I saw during my stroll to the beach in the morning to drink in its pre-cyclonic beauty, would be able to stand the gale. Then my phone vibrates. A message. A promotional one from a star hotel from the city. It says, Lets party with Hudhud tonite at X. Be there to face your fear. Experience the exhilaration of the view from the edge. Cuz the moment spend here that takes your breath away, are what you feel truly alive. And further, Glow at X. Kick off 8 pm. Free drinks for ladies n 1+1 for gents till 11 pm. T&C apply. How insensitive! This business-mindedness, this cyclone tourism! This so-called party hole is a shack (not concrete) on the beach, dangerously close to the sea. Do you want inebriated younguns dancing the night away, on the perilous path of a roaring cyclone? Moreover, isnt there a heart that pulsates with that of the citys? Sometimes I think too much comfort have lulled our generation to an indifference, which makes us resonate out of sync with the long-forgotten ground layers.
Posted on: Sat, 11 Oct 2014 12:12:51 +0000
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