Monday 11 May 2015

Aftershocks.

[On the 25th of April, 2015, at 11:52 am, Nepal was struck by a 7.8 moment magnitude earthquake, which destroyed cities and towns, razed historical heritage sites, killed more than 8000 people and injured twice that. This is a tribute to the victims and the wounded.]


My entire world has turned grey. Dust swirls all around as I stand in the midst of destruction. Faces of agony and despair surround me. Faces of pain and sadness. Of grief and disbelief. It seems only moments ago, when our whole lives came crashing down on us. The earthquake took everything from us. If not our own lives, then our families'. Our friends'. Everyone had been affected. The world was not the same for us anymore. Never more.

**Earlier that day**

It was a great day today. I usually have mediocre to bad days, but today was good. Today was special. She had smiled at me today. And that made all the difference.

I usually sit on the back row of the classroom. I wasn't the typical "backbencher" student who messed around without showing much interest in studies. I was just an introvert. The bell signalling the end of the lunch break had just rung and all the other students were just entering the class again after their respective escapades to the canteen or the playground. As I did everyday, I kept my eyes discreetly focused on the doorway. Through my months of practice, I had become extremely skilled at this task. She came in a few minutes after the bell, sashaying her way to the front row where she sat with her group of giggly annoying friends. I knew she liked me, even if it was in the most minutest of amounts. Most days, she would not even look to where I sat. But some days...some days, she would just steal a glance my way. Today, however, today of all days, when she looked at me, she stared for a moment, and then ever so slowly, her lips curled into a smile, not one of mock, but of something else. Affection, maybe?

It was Math period now. I liked math, I was good at it. I never had much of a problem dealing with numbers. Our math teacher came in shortly and announced a surprise test. A long moan left the lips of the students but they had no other choice. The papers were distributed and the answering time had begun. The questions were not too difficult. There were some tricky ones, but nothing I couldn't solve. As a result, I could finish the paper quickly. Feeling pretty satisfied with myself, I handed it in, and sat back down on my seat, content with my answers. I capped my pen and put it back on my desk. That was when I felt it.

It was just a tremor at first. A slight vibration, not much different from what you would feel if you moved your chair back forcefully. Most of the students did not notice it, and those that did dismissed it as some inexplicable oddity. Even I would've missed it, had I not seen my pen move slightly from its former position. But then I noticed something else. A low rumbling from far away, not moments after the tremor. A deep vibration within the ground, bringing with it a sense of foreboding, of doom. Then it hit. The big one. It was sudden, like a car crash. The tables rattled and fell sideways. Pens flew around the room. The lamps on the ceiling shook violently. The students were screaming and rushing out the door. It was absolute chaos.

I looked around to see if I could spot her, but all the commotion made it practically impossible. I joined the flow of students and teachers running down the steps. My mind was still preoccupied with finding her, so much so that I found myself drifting to the back of the crowd. By the time we got to the lowest level, most of the throng had already exited. A few others and I had just run out of the main doorway, when we felt the next quake, almost as powerful as the previous. The old building could not take the force. We heard a loud crack, and then the building caved in on itself.

We watched as our school collapsed, along with its side-buildings. We stood there, in overwhelming shock and disbelief, not one soul speaking. Slowly, emotions spilled. Wails of despair were heard all around. Not everyone had got out. Desperately, I searched the group of survivors for her face. I found her standing to the back, crying for one of her friends. I made my way to her. I wanted to hold her, comfort her. I could see that tears had stained her beautiful face, as she lifted her eyes to meet mine. Without saying a word, she fell into my arms, her warm tears wetting my shirt. We were both scared. Terrified. As we stood there, in the middle of the wreckage, realization set in. So many had died here. How many more back in the city? How many of our families? How many of our friends? How many more?  How many more?

I close my eyes, trying to wake up from this nightmare. Silent tears roll out, despite my best efforts. I know when I open my eyes, reality would hit me like a brick wall. I would have to venture out into the broken world, search for survivors, family, friends. But right now, I weep. I weep for my brothers. I weep for my sisters. I weep for Nepal and Nepal weeps for us.




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