IT was the 25th day of rain. Raju, squatting on the branch of the neem tree, watched contemplatively into the distance as the waters swirled around the last visible beam of the roof of his house and finally submerged it. Who could tell that there had been his life? He swept his eye along the horizon. Water had taken over the entire expanse of land. Beyond it was the sea. Now land and sea were one.
It had been an exceptionally dry summer. The hot winds had left mouths constantly parched and lips cracked at every crease. There was prayer for rains. And they came, falling from the embrace of the magnificent black clouds that flooded the sky. Every leaf and bird was drenched. It brought the first smile on his father’s face that Raju had seen in a long time. Mohan was a serious man, as any man who had a family of five to take care of would be. He had set out to work immediately. The five-acre land he tilled held their fate in its hands.
The rain continued to fall. Raju watched his father, now almost constantly standing near the door and looking up at the sky. His mother Vasanthi looked at her husband with concern. His stoic face was incomprehensible to his children, but she had, in these 17 years, learned to read every emotion. Raju usually looked at his mother to know what was going on in his father’s mind.
Mohan’s mind was awhirl. This winter they would have to follow the rest of the village into town. He would leave Shankar to look after Raju and the baby. Gopal and Vasanthi would accompany him. As construction workers, they would get Rs 20 a day. Vasanthi would get only Rs 15. Till now, even a bad crop hadn’t forced them to leave. This time, fate had corrected that oversight.
The rain merged the night into the day; the waters swept into the houses. People salvaged what they could and began their trek to drier land. He would have to make the decision soon, Vasanthi thought, but, she knew, he would hold out to the very end. She rebuked Gopal and Shankar, who had been agitatedly insisting that they had to tell their father to leave now. Mohan would know when it was time.
Raju watched them wordlessly, dangling his feet from the cot just above the water. His family found him as incomprehensible as his father. He had none of the stoicism though. He let his mind loose, to discover and walk along its own alleyways, and kept those discoveries to himself. His mother despaired sometimes. His brothers teased him. His father, however, would merely nod an acknowledgement of the boy’s presence, whenever he came across him. Raju considered himself an oddity and his family a curiosity to ponder over.
Thunder rent the sky. He sensed things would never be the same again. The water in the house was ankle-deep. The two older boys threw impatient looks at their father. Mohan’s eyes were blank as he sat on the cot and stared at the rising water. Soon the cot lifted from the ground. An outburst from Shankar broke his reverie. He nodded. Yes, it was time to leave. Raju saw the puzzled look in his mother’s eyes. It was the first time Mohan had surrendered the right to decide.
They took only a bundle each. Vasanthi slung the baby high up on her back with a sari. She couldn’t keep the baby’s feet dry though. They would walk through the fields, on the walls of the irrigation channels as far as possible, and then climb up to the main road. There, they might be able to hail a passing truck to take them to town.
Raju looked back every once and again to look at the house. He wanted to imprint its memory deep enough into his mind to last him forever. He too had noticed the difference in his father. While Vasanthi was worried, Raju was merely curious. He was not asking why. Demon rain would not go without being satiated.
The water was getting deeper. Some time along the way, Gopal and Shankar said they would do better to go via the village school. Though it was a longer route, it was also a pucca road and safer than the muddy fields. Raju wondered if his father would give in. The boys stood stubborn. They believed their father would yield again.
Mohan merely fixed his gaze on an undefined point in the space behind the boys, and then turned and walked on. Vasanthi followed him, suddenly afraid. Raju waited for a while making up his mind. His brothers, furious at their father’s stubbornness, started out in the direction of the school. Raju decided to follow his parents. He could not thwart the beckoning of the rain.
The rain whipped itself into frenzy. It was hard to see where they were going. Mohan’s legs threatened to collapse under him, but he carried on, mumbling to himself. Vasanthi walked blindly, clinging on to Mohan. They stopped at the old banyan tree. They climbed on to the sunken platform around it and found nooks among the branches to rest. Raju climbed up to a high branch and looked at the house that was slowly sinking. He did not hope. He looked up at the sky. Overpowering and overwhelming, who could hold out?
They wrapped themselves around their tattered souls and got back into the water that churned around their bodies as they pushed against it. Above, the birds circled, bewailing the desolation with their shrill cries. Exhaustion ate through their bones.
Then Vasanthi slipped. Mohan, a few steps ahead, turned around and tried to rush towards her. Raju grabbed hold of his mother, but the water dragged his frail frame down too. She rose and fell a few times before Mohan reached her. She regained her balance and then went deathly still, her eyes piercing through Mohan. He turned her around slowly and took the baby out of the sling. He knew he did not need to but he checked the baby’s breathing and pulse. Darkness was taking over land and sky. He set the baby down into the water and walked ahead. He did not look at Vasanthi.
Raju waited back with his mother, watching the water embrace and swallow his sister. Then, they followed Mohan. Raju still felt the horrified eyes that had gone down into the water. Vasanthi’s shoulders shuddered violently with desperate, soundless tears but the rain washed them away as soon as they fell. Raju held his mother’s hand tight. The rain hadn’t had its fill yet.
The night was complete when they reached the main road. The ripples danced under the light of Mohans’ torch. A roar came crashing through the water. The van, arranged by the district office, was carrying people from the next village. Their bodies slumped in bitter relief against the sides of the van. They were taken to a community hall, where provisions for refugees had been made.
Nobody spoke. Vasanthi spotted Gopal and Shankar at the far end of the room. She ran to them and collapsed inconsolably into their arms. Raju heard in his father’s sigh, a sigh so soft that Raju had to imagine it, the rain proclaiming its deed done.
The next morning, Raju climbed to the top of the neem tree near the hall. There was nothing left to fear from the rain now. He stayed there till the sun came out to lay bare the pieces.
It had been an exceptionally dry summer. The hot winds had left mouths constantly parched and lips cracked at every crease. There was prayer for rains. And they came, falling from the embrace of the magnificent black clouds that flooded the sky. Every leaf and bird was drenched. It brought the first smile on his father’s face that Raju had seen in a long time. Mohan was a serious man, as any man who had a family of five to take care of would be. He had set out to work immediately. The five-acre land he tilled held their fate in its hands.
The rain continued to fall. Raju watched his father, now almost constantly standing near the door and looking up at the sky. His mother Vasanthi looked at her husband with concern. His stoic face was incomprehensible to his children, but she had, in these 17 years, learned to read every emotion. Raju usually looked at his mother to know what was going on in his father’s mind.
Mohan’s mind was awhirl. This winter they would have to follow the rest of the village into town. He would leave Shankar to look after Raju and the baby. Gopal and Vasanthi would accompany him. As construction workers, they would get Rs 20 a day. Vasanthi would get only Rs 15. Till now, even a bad crop hadn’t forced them to leave. This time, fate had corrected that oversight.
The rain merged the night into the day; the waters swept into the houses. People salvaged what they could and began their trek to drier land. He would have to make the decision soon, Vasanthi thought, but, she knew, he would hold out to the very end. She rebuked Gopal and Shankar, who had been agitatedly insisting that they had to tell their father to leave now. Mohan would know when it was time.
Raju watched them wordlessly, dangling his feet from the cot just above the water. His family found him as incomprehensible as his father. He had none of the stoicism though. He let his mind loose, to discover and walk along its own alleyways, and kept those discoveries to himself. His mother despaired sometimes. His brothers teased him. His father, however, would merely nod an acknowledgement of the boy’s presence, whenever he came across him. Raju considered himself an oddity and his family a curiosity to ponder over.
Thunder rent the sky. He sensed things would never be the same again. The water in the house was ankle-deep. The two older boys threw impatient looks at their father. Mohan’s eyes were blank as he sat on the cot and stared at the rising water. Soon the cot lifted from the ground. An outburst from Shankar broke his reverie. He nodded. Yes, it was time to leave. Raju saw the puzzled look in his mother’s eyes. It was the first time Mohan had surrendered the right to decide.
They took only a bundle each. Vasanthi slung the baby high up on her back with a sari. She couldn’t keep the baby’s feet dry though. They would walk through the fields, on the walls of the irrigation channels as far as possible, and then climb up to the main road. There, they might be able to hail a passing truck to take them to town.
Raju looked back every once and again to look at the house. He wanted to imprint its memory deep enough into his mind to last him forever. He too had noticed the difference in his father. While Vasanthi was worried, Raju was merely curious. He was not asking why. Demon rain would not go without being satiated.
The water was getting deeper. Some time along the way, Gopal and Shankar said they would do better to go via the village school. Though it was a longer route, it was also a pucca road and safer than the muddy fields. Raju wondered if his father would give in. The boys stood stubborn. They believed their father would yield again.
Mohan merely fixed his gaze on an undefined point in the space behind the boys, and then turned and walked on. Vasanthi followed him, suddenly afraid. Raju waited for a while making up his mind. His brothers, furious at their father’s stubbornness, started out in the direction of the school. Raju decided to follow his parents. He could not thwart the beckoning of the rain.
The rain whipped itself into frenzy. It was hard to see where they were going. Mohan’s legs threatened to collapse under him, but he carried on, mumbling to himself. Vasanthi walked blindly, clinging on to Mohan. They stopped at the old banyan tree. They climbed on to the sunken platform around it and found nooks among the branches to rest. Raju climbed up to a high branch and looked at the house that was slowly sinking. He did not hope. He looked up at the sky. Overpowering and overwhelming, who could hold out?
They wrapped themselves around their tattered souls and got back into the water that churned around their bodies as they pushed against it. Above, the birds circled, bewailing the desolation with their shrill cries. Exhaustion ate through their bones.
Then Vasanthi slipped. Mohan, a few steps ahead, turned around and tried to rush towards her. Raju grabbed hold of his mother, but the water dragged his frail frame down too. She rose and fell a few times before Mohan reached her. She regained her balance and then went deathly still, her eyes piercing through Mohan. He turned her around slowly and took the baby out of the sling. He knew he did not need to but he checked the baby’s breathing and pulse. Darkness was taking over land and sky. He set the baby down into the water and walked ahead. He did not look at Vasanthi.
Raju waited back with his mother, watching the water embrace and swallow his sister. Then, they followed Mohan. Raju still felt the horrified eyes that had gone down into the water. Vasanthi’s shoulders shuddered violently with desperate, soundless tears but the rain washed them away as soon as they fell. Raju held his mother’s hand tight. The rain hadn’t had its fill yet.
The night was complete when they reached the main road. The ripples danced under the light of Mohans’ torch. A roar came crashing through the water. The van, arranged by the district office, was carrying people from the next village. Their bodies slumped in bitter relief against the sides of the van. They were taken to a community hall, where provisions for refugees had been made.
Nobody spoke. Vasanthi spotted Gopal and Shankar at the far end of the room. She ran to them and collapsed inconsolably into their arms. Raju heard in his father’s sigh, a sigh so soft that Raju had to imagine it, the rain proclaiming its deed done.
The next morning, Raju climbed to the top of the neem tree near the hall. There was nothing left to fear from the rain now. He stayed there till the sun came out to lay bare the pieces.
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