Shilpa Mathew

“Keep it there, Mole (daughter), Keep it there.” Dad said. I looked at him skeptically. Is he kidding me? That water seems to have a mean streak, it’s got that menacing I-can-do-what-I-want teasing look about it.  I can hardly cross over to the neighbors, the pathway is already filled. In the garden, the plants seem upright and stifled with their new companion for company at their roots. In the field, the crops knee down are no longer visible. But hey! what do I know, I’m an outsider, not a native! I don’t know the history or geology of the land, but logic tells me if its rising and there’s no outlet, it’s not going to stop! But hey, who said logic ever mattered! Mom’s bustling around putting away things, I can’t make out if she’s actually taking stuff upstairs or she’s using the opportunity to pursue her passion – cleaning the house! Either ways, I’m comforted seeing some movement. My eyes fall on the printer scanner. Oh yes! That needs to go upstairs, need to scan my documents tomorrow. My thoughts move towards my bag, my passport! Need to catch a flight soon. I hear my Uncle’s voice in the courtyard. It’s ‘Helpful’ Uncle. I hurriedly make my way out, need to get to him before Dad does. Need an honest, uncoerced answer! Won’t get that with dad towering over us. I call out as he’s walking to us “Upapa, Upapa (Uncle), Will the water rise?” He gives me that disconcerting, noncommittal nod that translates neither to yes nor no. And says, “No Mole (daughter), Don’t be scared, nothing will happen.” Out comes Dad, “Yes, Yes, nothing will happen. In my entire lifetime, Edanad has never been flooded.” My uncle chimes in, “This never happens in Edanad and ….” And then begins the all too familiar banter between Dad and Uncle talking about the history of Edanad and how great Edanad is and how it has withstood the test of times…. If I was positioned horizontally and not vertically at this point in time, I would be snoring away.

Hey, wait a sec, did my Uncle just say I’m scared. Who you calling scared? I’m totally cool, I’m always cool …. usually I’m cool. Am I cool? No wait, I’m not. But why not? ….. Hmmm… Oh yes, because everybody else seems soooo damn cool. I’m supposed to be the casual one but right now they epitomize being casual.

And to think just a couple of hours ago, I was passionately speaking to one friend and chatting with another, inviting them to Kerala, making plans for next Onam. “The rain is gorgeous, the sound mimics a god like chant, the landscape so beautiful and serene, the air so… “ ya borderline poetic, old fashioned and tad bit boring, my hometown does that to me. But somewhere along the way, this stopped being fun.

Finally, Dad says, “I’ll call ‘Hero’ Uncle and ask him to get some people to help move the furniture up”. Now in spite of needing to be cool, my mind unknowingly has already strategized in what corner the telephone table will fit upstairs and how the small sofa can be perched at 210-degree angle on the larger sofa which will then be balanced on the two wooden tables. Well, it’s just my mind. Sometimes it does things without checking with me first! Dad’s on the phone. Oh boy, that look on his face! I feel myself wince preparing for the worst. “They can’t come, the strength of the water is too strong, even the expert swimmers can’t make it across.” We all involuntarily make it out to the foyer area.

Mom and I scuttle off to see what all we can move upstairs. Mom takes on the kitchen, I take on the living room. I knew I should have focused on those pushups. Where’s that arm strength, when you need it. After a crazy 15 minutes, the family house couple have been rescued and have arrived at our home, the courtyards flooded, the living room doesn’t look much different from when I started with it and my mom’s bickering in the background about how we could have been better prepared. The next 20 minutes are spent reorganizing, the first 10 of which totally unplanned and at my dad’s directions. After some unsuccessful attempts, I finally lose it, “Please don’t tell me what to move. Tell me what you are trying to achieve, and I’ll figure it out” I realized this was probably not the time for the “Let’s work together” speech but hey we were not getting anywhere, and I had to practice the office gained finesse somewhere. We were yet to get to the most important bit – the food organization. I took charge for the last five minutes of the organization, can’t say I was much more successful. I peeked out then, the water had crossed the Lakshman Rekha, our house steps, and reached our front door. I said, OK, I screamed, though I like to think it was an elegant scream and not a shrill scream “The water is going to enter the house, head upstairs”.

The water not only looks menacing, it looks filthy! I head straight for the kitchen to see what I can salvage of my first love – Food! In hindsight, I don’t see why that wasn’t the first thing we did! Everybody has scurried upstairs, but I’m no deserter to my love. There’s dinner lovingly laid out in good china on the table. Dinner, laid out, good china – all luxuries that evade us in the ensuing days. I take a few trips passing it on to the family house lady who was helping me out. I think about all the goodies in the fridge, the foreign chocolates that we NRIs so proudly strut around, the necessities like milk, bread and wait a sec… the fridge, it’s a brand-new fridge. My intimate thoughts are drowned by my mon’s definitely shrill scream “You come up, you come up!” The water really is only at my ankles now but the thought of the dirt its collected enroute here, the pit stops it’s made at the many outdoor toilets, the waste baskets, ugh …. Once again, my glorious thoughts are disturbed by the shrill “You come up, you come up!” For a change, I oblige. I bounded up the stairs and my eyes search out my dad. Before I can even begin to curate an appropriately accusatory look, my dad has that wide-eyed look and he’s already on to the “Ural potti. I’ve never seen this in my life….. “. I have a feeling they probably curated puss in boots wide-eyed look after meeting with my dad. Dads just have a way of doing that and daughters fall for it. Unfortunately for my Dad, that look may shut me up but has absolutely no effect on my mom. She says, “I said we should start taking things up but noooo, we need to wait for the rest of the world….” I walk away from the all too familiar conversation and look out the balcony.  

Why isn’t there an emergency alert texted to me? What is the weather forecast for the next couple of days? What the hell does “Ural potti” mean? So, something broke but what is “Ural”. All these questions directed to my trusted partner, Google pages. I furiously typed away and opened several google pages. But Alas! A snail must have successfully completed a marathon across Sydney as I waited with abated breath for the responses. My thoughts were once again interrupted by a beautiful birdcall. Wow, that’s pretty cool. My Dad returns the birdcall and says “Helpful Upapa (Uncle) is calling, go see what he wants.”  This seems to be a pretty acknowledged form of communication apparently. And rightfully so, Upapa was at his balcony asking for the family house gentleman. He wanted his help to move furniture up. Now, I was worried! Helpful Uncle’s house is on the highest ground in the village and he’s bang opposite us. If he is now prepping for invasion, then I can only imagine what’s going to happen to us and the rest of the village. Dad immediately says, “But the family house gentleman can’t swim”. I whirled around so quick, I nearly lost my balance. “He can’t swim! But the Pamba river is right behind our house” Nobody paid much attention to my outburst. I humbly realized my perfectly accurate observation was not required at this point in time and I archived it for later discussion. Then begins the discussion of how he’s going to get across the pathway between the houses. Now for all my bravado and swimming skills, I can tell you the water was at its meanest in that pathway, it was gushing forward, and I was no way going to plunge into that. So, I could not for the life of me, fathom how this gentleman was going to cross over. Conversation went on back and forth between the two balconies, we all ventured downstairs once again. The family house gentleman was already halfway across the courtyard, the neighbors started looking for a rope to help him out. I too thought it a good idea and asked Mom for one. The immediate retort I get, “You don’t step out there, what do you think of yourself”. A dialogue I was going to hear a lot over the ensuing days. I could feel the anger rising inside me, but my calm inner voice, a very rare friend of mine, made its appearance and whispered “Focus! Focus!”. “Mom are you going to get it, or should I?” She finally turns around to go find it. Ten secs later, we hear the loudest moan ever and what will be the scariest for me. “Ooooooo” my Mom screams and “Thud”. We rushed indoors and find mom sprawled on the floor and dazed. I can feel my breathing slow down. I can feel and taste fear. How bad did she get hurt? Where did she get hurt? Would there be internal injuries? Where will I take her in these floods if she needs attention? Will she blame this one on me? Do I blame this one on me? Mom is staring at me, her eyes wide with fear. That fear penetrates through every fiber in my body. The family house couple is trying to pick mom up. I hear my voice say. “Leave her. Leave her. Let her feel comfortable first”. Dad says, “Let her not sit in the cold water, she’ll fall sick.” Then we all help her up. She is spotting the nastiest bump ever on her forehead and she’s clutching at her ribs. “It hurts. It hurts.” She says. I feel tears welling up and hold myself back. The last thing I need is for her to worry about this and increase her blood pressure. So, I hear myself say, “Mom it’s not that bad, you are spotting a bruise just because of the impact of hitting the floor. And it’s age mom. That’s it, nothing major.” I sound so feeble even to my own ears. Mom screams, “I know how I feel”. In the meantime, the family house lady is sounding so worried. I’m not sure that’s helping the cause. Though I think at this moment, Mom would rather see her face than mine. We lead her upstairs and help try to massage the offending areas.

Dad was on the phone again, checking with all the other men in the neighborhood. His first call is to ‘Hero’ Uncle. I hear snippets of the conversation. “Too strong…. can’t cross…. Rise more…”. Several phone calls later, its 10:00 pm, four hours since the water started rising, we decide to sit down to dinner. We have the well laid out dinner in not such a well laid out fashion. Mom then shares all the goodies she’s brought upstairs. A flask of water, couple of apples and couple of pomegranates, assortment of nuts and the chocolates and of course the packets of bread that ‘Hero’ Uncle had bought for us that morning. Mom’s a star! Don’t know when she sneaked all this upstairs. Well don’t want to know the how, glad she did it. I exclaimed happily, ‘Mom this should be more than enough for us tomorrow. This is great!’

Mom is gushing with pride at our pleasant surprise and I’m mentally making a note to self – Praise mom more often. Neither of us knew then, that we would need that food to stretch way beyond a day. Anyways, we rejoiced in our new-found happiness and went to sleep a happier bunch. 

It was raining throughout the night, pouring with a vengeance, strangely so, I found it a reassuring lullaby and slept peacefully. However, the morning did not bring peace. I woke up to the family house lady exclaiming ‘Look at the water, Look at the water’. I jumped out of bed and headed for the balcony. The gods had wreaked havoc during the night. The water level had risen like crazy and its destruction was in plain sight. The water was rushing down the pathway between the houses at a speed I had only seen in the Pamba river the previous morning. I had woken up the previous morning to the cheers and chatter of the village folk excitedly going to see the ‘Wella pokkum (Water rising) in the Pamba river”. I too had accompanied them the previous morning to check it out, taking videos eventually leading to the two conversations I earlier mentioned with friends where I was, let’s admit it, boasting of the natural beauty of my hometown.

Twenty- four hours later, the poet in me had died and the skeptic in me had surfaced. Now I was officially worried. What I saw below me, looked no different from the Pamba river I had seen the previous day. There was no longer a distinction between land and river. And there was nothing poetic about it!

I heard the birdcall from ‘Helpful’ Uncle’s house and in quick succession, from different houses, heard my dad and my mom and then one unknowingly escaped my lips. I liked it. I let out a few more and with each one, I felt reassured and supported. This was everybody’s way of giving attendance and hell ya, I was all for it! 

It was at this point, that the thought (but not the talk) of conservation popped up in my mind. Conservation of water, electricity and food. The previous day with dad’s directions I had switched off all the main electric switches, save one which would help provide solar power for one room. Thankfully the previous morning, dad had pumped water from the well to the tank. I put all the mobiles for charging immediately. Dad had the same thought, he voiced it. “Save electricity, save water” I then asked him softly, so how big is our tank for water? How long will the electricity last? Neither question was awarded with a direct answer. I heard a mumbled, “Ah, there should be enough” A response I realized I would have to get used to in the following days. I didn’t like that feeling of helplessness and asked loudly this time. Not like my dad is one to answer that tone of mine. He did say though, the solar power conserved may last a day until the sun shows up next. We both looked at the sky. The sun seemed to be a stubborn bugger and showed no signs of making an appearance.  What we didn’t know then, was our ever-powerful friend was not going to show his face for several more days. 

I had started chatting with my brothers the previous day, both of whom had clearly not understood the magnitude of the situation. My oldest brother encouraged me to take photos to make a documentary. And was casually asking me if we had brought the kettle up. I tried to patiently explain the situation and that we were missing water and electricity, essential ingredients for the kettle! 

 We all freshened up, got around to breakfast, partook in a slice of bread, fruits, nuts. We all knew this was going to be lunch and dinner for the day. More importantly, we silently began to realize, there may be more meals that would be required. I made a mental note to go for the chocolates, so that Dad Mom could focus on the nutritious stuff. And this was where my actually worry was!

That morning, Dad asked me if there were any cracks I could see in the walls. We both surveyed the walls and then he said cautiously, ‘the house is not that old, it should be able to withstand the pressure of the water.” We were perched on the second floor, and our house was already built on relatively high ground so there was a low likelihood of the water crossing over to the 1stfloor landing or to the 2nd floor. So, we were pretty confident that we didn’t have to worry about the water, however ambitious it was going to be in its rise. So then came the issue of supplies. Dad and Mom both were taking medicines and dad, with a recent medical procedure, was not supposed to strain or move around. So, water and food would be essential for them to digest those medicines. These were my worries. For the moment. Little did I know, there were more to come.

The phone rang. My brothers. Gravity of the situation had finally hit. Snippets of conversation I could hear, “News……houses falling down on the river banks…. Heaviest rainfall in 100 years…. Water level rising….” Late into the morning, came the next call. “Evacuation has started…. Army and Navy have been dispatched…. Grave situation across”. Now the gravity of the situation hit me. I went numb. Sitting in our house, with no access to the news, I was just beginning to grasp the fact that Kerala had been hit and hit hard! My second brother spoke with me, any inhibitions I had or any need to sound cool went flying out the door. I wasn’t sure whether I should scare him or not, but hell I wasn’t going to take any chances. I said it, “We have food and water supplies that will last us a day, and its five mouths that’s being fed”. My first question was about the weather forecast and my oldest brother came back saying heavy rainfall until Sunday evening. Not a piece of information I was about to share with the rest of the house. As of now, at least. My second brother’s Father in law who was in Kottayam, the ‘Persistent’ Uncle called next and from then on was in constant touch with us. 

The next six hours were a flurry of phone calls and lot of information back and forth and no closer to a solution. My brothers and my brother’s father in law, ‘Persistent’ Uncle, were all trying to get us evacuated. But I knew we were not going to get evacuated. There is no way! Any army helicopter or navy boat is going to take one look at the house and say, ‘These people are fine’. We would not be a priority as we would have a couple of floors that we could ascend. We needed water and food supplies. My oldest brother made it very clear “There is no news of food and water drops, just evacuations”. He had confirmed my worst fears. 

I knew what I had to do, posted on couple of my WhatsApp groups and then thought of Facebook. Do I even have an FB page? When did I last use it? How many times did I tell myself to start using social media? Are my friends even following me? I wouldn’t follow me, with my inactive page. Ok, worth a shot. These situations call for desperate measures. I needed my village Edanad to get attention and I needed the notion of food and water drops to be spread. I knew I had a bunch of resourceful friends who were greater beings across the world, but I wasn’t sure I would be able to reach them with my dinosaur dated Facebook page. I posted!

Several phone calls, couple of meager meals and lots of half-baked information later, it was dark again. I put our phones on airplane mode and started charging them. I spoke to the family house lady about how we would need to conserve battery and will need her to reduce her updates to the world at large. Boy, now if she had a Facebook page, she would have certainly had a following! After getting a few very decisive nods from her post my short lesson on battery conservation, and ten seconds later seeing her taking a video and trying to upload it, I decided to rest my case and focus on conserving my energy! We had two torches and my headlamp. The torches were not battery enabled ones, they were power outlet driven. Now what’s the point of such torches when you don’t have electricity!!! So eventually we would have to survive on my headlamp. Out came the candles and we sat down to dinner. Mom took on a jovial spirit and was chatting away. I was glad. She amazes me, her resilience and her spirit in these circumstances can put Disney characters to shame. Dad’s pensive but holding up well considering his limitations. I could feel him feeling crippled. Even at this age, he would have jumped in the water to help out the village. But he still has stitches from his medical procedure and prone to infection. He’s sitting still. Or as still as he can. Thankfully he’s taking care of his food intake. Note to self, got to give dad and mom more credit than I usually do. 

We go to bed. Dad’s phone vibrates. I’ve put all the mobiles on silent and given marching orders to my parents to sleep well. It’s “Resourceful” Aunt on the phone. “Helpful” Uncle’s Sister in Law. We start chatting. She updates me about the madness in the free world. How everybody is making calls, getting our co-ordinates, inhaling the news! I feel better. Our extended family is totally kicking ass! She assures me that she has spoken with our Village’s MLA (Member of legislative assembly, basically a very important political person). The Navy boats are expected in our village at 6 am in the morning. 

How can Mom be comfortable? Should we put her in a chair? How can we make sure the water doesn’t touch Dad? That he remains dry and comfortable. What if the rescue party is rough when pulling us out? Should I give them a spiel upfront about Dad’s situation? Will they hear me out or will they be in action mode? I have seen a lot of do-gooders in the past 48 hours but planning and communication don’t seem to be their forte! I don’t get much of a shut eye, my mind furiously planning how we can evacuate Dad and Mom. Luckily, I had left most of my camping stuff in the house two years ago. So, I have a sleeping bag, that we can get my dad into, so he doesn’t get wet. My bike helmet too was lying around. So, he can use that in case it’s raining when we try to evacuate him. I’m out of bed @ 5:30 am, armed with a fool proof plan. I’m ready, let’s do this! ….. Nature had other plans.

No sign of Navy boats. It’s raining, water is raging and soon the house is awake. It’s day 3. I then ask Dad, ‘Will it reach us on the second floor?’. My Dad responds, ‘Now, I can’t predict, if it reaches the height of the village bridge, then it will reach us on the second floor.’ I’m not too sure I was ready for the honest answer then. But probably the first my Dad’s given me since this episode started.  I freshen up, no longer a lavish ritual, as best as I can. I’m craving water, having not had any for the past 36 hours. I noticed the family house couple too have not had much. I shake the flask, doesn’t feel like much. I took a quick drink guiltily. I go check on the phones. Great they are charged. But the charging sign is not on. I try switching on the light. I call out ‘Dad, the ....’ He finishes my sentence. ‘We are out of electricity’. I hear myself saying, ‘Oh so the solar panels don’t conserve for too long, do they?’ It was like having a regular conversation about solar panels would in some way comfort and distract me from the situation. My Dad tells me to conserve my headlamp cause it’s the only battery-operated light in the house. Thank God, I have a fresh pack of batteries. All thanks to the camping trip I just had. In some ways a mock session for this. I was used to the basic daily rituals taking up so much time and used to thinking of conservation. The morning is bleak and I’m getting impatient. I have half a mind to jump in the water. Screw the navy boats, I’m going to get my parents out of this. I then remember my second sister in law’s words ‘Think twice before you wade into the water, there could be snakes’. If only I weren’t scared of snakes.

Dad wakes up after a nap. I’m happy. Both Dad and Mom have been sleeping well the past two nights. Dad’s also been taking a couple of naps during the day. That’s what so cool about Dad, he knows how to take care of himself. I look at him with all the cheer I can muster up ‘Dad shall I call Hero Uncle and find out what’s happening along the roadside’. My Dad ignores me, as usual, and walks out onto the balcony and gives the famous birdcall. Helpful Uncle appears on his balcony. Dad says ‘What’s the plan? How can we get out of here? Does anybody even care that we are stuck here?’ Uncle replies that we may have to wait it out, it seems the current is too high, and no boats can make it through. Then I hear my Dad shriek ‘It’s been two days since we haven’t had proper food. I can’t wait. What is going on?’ Well now that’s not totally true, we have had food. I was surprised to see my Dad lose it and speak so gravely. But dad seemed to be having a moment, like my FB post moment. He had realized that he needed to show agitation to get some attention and get things moving. Just like I had with my FB post. I knew with no proper dam management and no forewarning of the current situation, I could no longer rely on the state to manage our rescue effectively. I had to get friends and family to get some focused attention and energy on us. Dad too seemed to be rallying the troops within Edanad with his cry for help. ‘Helpful’ Uncle seemed surprised that we didn’t have food. So apparently, they had taken their gas cooker upstairs and been able to survive by boiling rainwater and cooking rice. So, Uncle says ‘Will send some food over’. At the same time from across, another neighbor calls out ‘Will send tapioca over’. I was overwhelmed by these people. They were willing to deplete their own reserves not knowing how long it will take us all to get out of this. My heart felt warm and satiated like it was its own being. Within an hour, the food was ready. And the next expedition was set up. It had stopped raining. Ropes were tied to poles, trees and walls. The family couple gentleman and helpful Uncle met midway and a successful handover took place. We opened the packet to find a huge insulated casserole with piping hot rice, a smaller canister with sambar (traditional south Indian vegetable curry) and pickle. This was a whole meal! And a delicious one at that. I ran out and let go a couple of birdcalls. Out came ‘Helpful’ Uncle. ‘Thank you, Upapa, Thank you so much’ He just nodded his head like it was no big deal. That’s what makes these people amazing. They don’t bat an eyelid and are happy to help out and then don’t even take credit for it.

Everybody took an afternoon nap happy with our tummies filled. Grrrrrrrrr… We hear a whirring noise and jump up. Is it what I think it is? No, I don’t think so, really…. My thoughts while I was making my way out to the balcony. Helicopter! Birdcalls go around across the neighborhood. You would think this was mating season for the birds with the decibel, variety and persistence of the outcries! The copter whizzes above with minimum visibility from our front balcony because the house has aluminum sheets covering the terrace to prevent water seepage from the rains. So, I make my way to the rear terrace. It’s the only terrace in the house that’s uncovered. And as I reach, my mind’s already strategizing whether there’s enough place for the copter to land. I’m wracking my brain for my collective intelligence about helicopters. How far was the helicopter in mission impossible before Tom Cruise could make the jump? Did they always have helipads for the copters to land? What was the angle at which… 

The family couple gentleman is talking about getting a red color cloth. I do, and we wait at different positions on the rooftop. We hear the whizz again and I’m waving and jumping and all I can possibly do at something that is definitely too far to even notice. It sounds like they have stopped at the nearby village. All five of us are out on the rear terrace. Dad says ‘This is all just show. Some MLA’s son must be there in that village’ and he walks off disgusted. Could that be true? No way! Now is not the time for preferential treatment. This must be Dad’s frustration. But maybe.. possibly.. I feel the anger rise within me, but the recently faithful friend reappears, my calm voice saying ‘Focus! Focus!’. 

We had food for the night, so we wiled away the evening hours. I kept only Dad’s mobile switched on for any emergency calls. But for some reason, though all phones were charged, we were unable to pick up reception on any. We were truly and literally cut off from the world. I knew my brothers would worry. They along with my brother’s father in law ‘Persistent’ Uncle would have been calling all the emergency numbers available. It would be nearly 24 hours since they had been in touch and 24 hours since my FB post. Not sure if anybody would have seen it. But somehow being cut off from the free world’s turbulence was better. The next couple of hours were spent lounging on the balcony. Everybody sharing their war stories of the past, past rains, floods, camping trips, duels with snakes, wrestling matches between kids. All realizing that this was slowly yet surely becoming the biggest trauma that we all had probably ever faced. It was fun in a weird way, I learnt a lot about how the family house couple live and the neighborhood gossip. It’s amazing how people still make time for that. I heard stories from my mom’s days as a kid playing in the wild in Mangalore. She was quite the adventurer. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying this. Her good cheer was remarkable and to be honest kept me calm.

We hear ‘Helpful’ Uncle’s voice call out to us. No need for a birdcall this time. Cause we are all out on the balcony in plain sight. He calls out that my brother’s father in law ‘Persistent’ Uncle had called and was checking in on us. They must have been worried. We are happy they were able to make contact. That happiness was short-lived! We hear the family house lady shriek ‘There’s no water.’ That’s impossible. Dad had pumped it two mornings ago and we have been using it sparingly. How are we going to wash up? More importantly, how is Dad going to keep his wound clean?  I hear Dad say, ‘How is that possible?’ Well that’s a mystery none of us is keen to solve right now. He says, ‘Check the other tank’. What? There’s another tank! The family house gentleman says, ‘It’s got water and it’s up to the brim.’ Whew. What a relief. Unfortunately, this tank is not connected to the water supply. We have to start washing from buckets of water. The couple is tasked with filling buckets of water for each restroom. I hear it rain again. And I’m out on the balcony. It’s meaner this time. I come back a minute later. I see a bucket filled with filthy water. I feel the vomit slowly making its way up my body and I hear myself say ‘The water in the tank is filthy!’ The family house lady explains that this is not tank water but water from the ground that we can use to flush toilets. I see the family house gentleman carrying one such bucket to my Dad’s restroom and I shriek ‘No, keep the water clean in his restroom.’ I see the family house lady dip a mug in the filthy water and then use the same mug for the clean water. I can literally feel the tears well up in my eyes and I seem to have lost my voice. How do they not understand the concept of contamination? Now I wanted to get out. Oh God, with Dad in this condition, infection topped my list of concerns. Now we had to get out!

I wonder where Hero Uncle is at this time. Thank God, he’s around. He works in Brazil and is home on vacation. The timing couldn’t have been better. The whole village is lucky! I wonder if they know that though! The village still believes in the Robin Hood days! I, for one, would rather leave my fate to a well administered system. And seeing how the state has totally failed us in that regard, I’m no puritan, I too am counting on the village Robin Hood now!  I guess Dad too must have been thinking the same thing. We decide to give him a call. The line goes through! Ah, our luck may just be getting better. I can hear his voice booming on the other side. Dad tells him about his recent medical procedure and how it is essential that he reaches safer cleaner ground at the earliest. ‘Hero’ Uncle is empathetic as usual, and I can hear his words with finality ‘If the water is not raging tomorrow, I WILL reach there by tomorrow morning.’

I feel better. I don’t feel alone. I feel this may very well be our last night and the morning may be better. If we evacuate, where will we go. How will we sustain day to day needs? Where will we get immediate medical care? I knew this was playing on my dad and mom’s minds as well. We had collectively decided that we would not go to the relief camps. With Dad’s condition, that’s inviting trouble. So, Dad spoke to one of my grand aunts about staying at their place and requesting her to arrange for us to collect the key for the same. Now, this was possibly our only option but not the most favorable as it was a closed house not an operational one. So, it would not necessarily be clean, and I had no idea what the water, gas and electricity conditions would be like. Mom was already dreading the idea of having to set up groceries from scratch there. I had a brilliant idea. How about we drive straight to Cochin and check into the accommodation attached the hospital where my dad had his procedure done? That way we would be there in time for his checkup, we could eat from the dining hall there and have serviced rooms to stay in. So, I spent one more sleepless night coming up with a post evacuation strategy.

I wake up to Day 4. The morning brings us some good news. The water seems to have receded a notch. The sun seems to be making a shy appearance. Everybody’s excited and hopeful! We begin making plans. Dad and I argue over staying at the hospital accommodation. After arguing for good measure, I put my foot down. My mom makes the call. And I hear the most unexpected response. ‘The hospital is under water and non-operational for the next 7 days.’ I can feel my Dad’s smug face without looking at him. I guess this is why they recommend planning in broad daylight and not in the dark hours of the night! Feeling dejected at the prospect of not knowing what’s next, I retire to my room for a nap. I wake up a couple of hours later expecting that ‘Hero’ Uncle would have arrived with backup. There was no ‘Hero’ Uncle, no navy boats, no backup. And those bloody copters were back. The landline started ringing. We were thrilled! Finally, after four days we were connected to civilization. It was my second brother. He had only one thing to say ‘Leave, evacuate, what are y’all doing? Has ‘Hero’ Uncle arrived? What’s going on?’. Once we pacified him that we were contemplating leaving, Dad next got on the phone with ‘Hero’ Uncle. And he screamed, ‘What is this? Where is everybody? Don’t tell me that the water current is too strong. If I were younger, I would have waded into the water by now.’ It was not good. I was not happy with Dad’s outburst. But I also didn’t know what to do about it. By then, we see two boys heading our way with food and water supplies. The water had tamed down. I saw them and told my parents I’m heading back with them to see what it was like at the main road. Much against their wishes, I rolled up my slacks and waded into the filthy water. I made it half way to the main road when I saw ‘Hero’ Uncle heading in our direction. He looked like he had not had anything to eat for the past couple of days. After Dad’s outburst, I didn’t know what to say to him. I tried consoling him. He seemed nonchalant. I turned around and we both headed back home. He starts joking with my Dad good naturedly. I was amazed at how respectful and cheerful he was. I would have bitten my Dad’s head off if I were in his shoes. 

 On hearing ‘Hero’ Uncle’s booming voice, ‘Helpful’ Uncle also comes out. The water now having completely disappeared from his courtyard. Discussions begin, Dad and Mom on the balcony. Helpful Uncle, Hero Uncle and I in the courtyard, the filthy water up until our knees. Now it was decision time. Do we want to evacuate or not? One Uncle predicts the water will further recede tomorrow and the other says he doesn’t want to make any comment. I push my parents ‘Let’s get out when we can. What if it rains heavily tonight and they need to open the dams again? If they open the dams again, we are done for!’ Now, it’s not an easy decision to make. Because evacuating in this state will still not be easy for Dad. They decide against it. 

The rest of the evening was spent catching the attention of the copters, jumping on the rear terrace spotting all shades of red. I’m not sure what I was trying to achieve but hell I had nothing better to do. Dad’s happily napping. Early evening, we see a bunch of navy fellows making their way to our houses with food and water supplies. I throw all possible questions at them from the comfort of our balcony. ‘Is it expected to rain heavily again tonight? Will they open the dams? Will the water rise?’ They reassure us that these are just rumors and we should be able to walk out tomorrow morning. Now I’m really comforted, and we sit down to dinner. It’s been a good day, with the water receding, the sun deciding to make an appearance albeit a short one, fresh supplies of food and water, being in contact with family over the phone and more importantly seeing my neighbor uncles on the ground at close proximity. My brother had already told me that my post had received several responses and my friends and extended family were helping him out. Reassuring to know that we weren’t alone, both here in Edanad and with support from loved ones in the free world. I felt warm and loved. Alas, Not for long!

We heard the loudest wail pierce the air. It was the neighbor’s dog. And it was howling in a tone I had only heard in movies. My mom exclaimed ‘That’s not a good sign. Dogs can usually predict when something bad is going to happen.’ And then we hear somebody talking in a distance. We head out to the balcony. There’s an announcement being made. Dad translates, ‘They are requesting people to evacuate from the houses because they expect water to rise again.’ My head starts spinning, what’s going on. How’s that possible. This was supposed to have been a good day. I turn around and Mom’s all ready to leave. She’s dressed up and carrying a bag in each hand. ‘That dog’s howl is not a good sign’ was all she said. Like that in some way explained everything. I think the announcement is what creeped my dad out. And he’s like ‘Yes, let’s leave right now. Let’s not take chances.’ I bite back the urge to say, ‘I told you let’s leave at noon.’ In the afternoon and early evening, we had my two Uncles and five able bodied Navy guys and an inflatable boat that could have helped us. But now I was stumped, it was pitch black, we would be stumbling across god only knows what! And I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how we were going to get Dad out in this situation. ‘Dad how are we going to get you out?’ He says, ‘I’ll wade across, what else to do?’ I couldn’t believe our bad luck. And at that exact moment, my second brother calls. I tell him all the fuss that was going around and the only thing he says is ‘Go. Go. Go. Just leave everything and Go. Make it Happen. Get out of there!’. I assured him as best as I could that we would try. It was 9 pm and then we hear it, probably at its loudest ever, the rain starts pouring down. It was like the dog’s and the announcer’s, howls and words respectively, were proving true in their prophecies. We could definitely not leave in this condition. Dad could definitely not afford to get wet. Needless to say, it would be turbulent for the rest of us as well. We decided to stay and brave the night. By now, I felt thoroughly defeated. Nature had a way of casting aside all our plans and surprising us. Knowing that there was literally not much we could do, we went to bed. We would have to deal with it in the morning, whatever the ‘it’ was going to be. I slept like a log that night. 

In the morning, I didn’t budge. I could hear the household waking up. I could hear my second brother’s persistent calls checking if I had woken up. I could hear some positive exclamations about the water receding. But I didn’t care. I was not moving an inch till my body felt it had rested enough. I finally get out of bed at 8:45 am. Venture out to the balcony. Yes, the cursed filthy water had receded. I surveyed the household. Somebody was eating breakfast, somebody was washing up, somebody was packing up. It was like we had talked about it sooo much, that it didn’t quite have the magical climax we were expecting. The family house gentleman was clearing the muck downstairs. The water had disappeared from the house and left behind a foot-deep thickness of muck. With no water, the best he could do, was push it all to one side. Dad would then have a clear pathway out of the house. I too went about my business. An hour later, we were ready. ‘Hero’ Uncle was downstairs with the inflatable boat. We walked down, surveying the damage. We walk out of the house. The crops are destroyed. It was a pathetic sight. My heart went out to Dad and Mom. This was their house. I was scheduled to leave and get to work end of week. They would have to piece this together. We wade out into the remaining water, now ankle deep in the courtyard. And out onto the pathway, where its knee deep.  Dad and Mom are helped on to the inflatable boat. We make our way out. 

*Thank you to the army & navy & more importantly ALL friends & family for all their help.

*Any resemblance of characters in the story to people in reality is purely coincidental… :)

*Excuse the imperfect prose. Scribbled in poor light, minimum internet connection and a half-filled tummy!