By Saptashi Mallik
It was hot and sultry . . . . they prayed for clouds, for water, for rain, for life . . . . and they were answered .
That night it rained heavy . . . . the rude storm snatched away the thatched roofs of their houses . . . . left them homeless, clothless, motherless, fatherless and childless . . . . left them starving with in rooms of mud-walled houses: the mud melting, crumbling and falling down . . . . getting mixed with the black water of the gullies . . . . the water gushing out from everywhere . . . . the water cleaning all barriers to its flow - the common nature of water - the water sweeping away everything in its path including their cattle and children . . . . the water for which they prayed all day all night . . . . the water which they thought was like their bread and wine . . . . with that there was the perpetually precipitating rain-drops that have come down as a result of their pray . . . . the drops that they thought to be life . . . . the drops that, in small amount heal, but when excess, kill . . . .
And then suddenly there was a sudden blinding flash of light: a heavenly light not from heaven . . . . a light which was the preface to a deafening reverberating grin: a grin that mocked their purpose of pray . . . . a grin that echoed across every corners of the black turned blue sky . . . . a grin that continued for almost a minute . . . . and then, the clap of thunder got mixed with the mourns of thousands, thousands of groans . . . . and all suddenly stopped . . . . everything became as quiet as the inside of a church . . . . all were in awe to utter a word . . . . they just looked open-mouthed when the thunderstruck year-old coconut tree got uprooted and fell down on one of the mud walled houses: one of the very few houses whose roof did not get blown off; where many were taken inside for immediate aid and relief . . . . and what an irony!! Finally they were relieved . . . .
