I still feel that warmth at my chest

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It was Monday morning. 80,000 dead in Asia. Over 8.77 lakh people affected by the disaster in India. Thats how the newspaper headline read. It was the first time a Tsunami wave has hit the south-east coast of India. According to the report given by the Centre over 7,000 were dead and, over 5,000 missing.

Various newspapers had really heart-breaking photos printed on the front page. One showed a women wailing over the dead body of her little daughter. That girl would not have been even ten, i suppose. The other paper had the picture of the Mass Burial in Nagapattinam, a coastal district in Tamil Nadu which alone accounted for a loss of around 4, 500 lives. 198 died in Chennai.

I could not keep myself at home. In less than an hour i was there. It was for the first time that i was seeing such a havoc in my life. I could see a row of dead bodies on the roadside, lying in a perfect row. There was a police officer standing with a register and busy talking on the wireless. Few other policemens were hurrying around him, dragging the lifeless bodies and putting them in a straight line. I thought, atlast the policemen have done something in a perfect way. Not for the good of the living people, but, atleast for the dead ones.

As i walked further and looked around, it was the most horrying scene i came face-to-face with, which one could not imagine even in dreams. There were dead bodies all around and their relatives were there, wailing. Everywhere you turn, you could only hear the cries and the mourning of the bereaved. All the man-made structures were to be seen only in rubbles. As if the nature is warning the humans that its the supreme power on this earth. The more we try to conquer the control over it, the more we will have to pay for it

Some people were looking for their loved ones, who were missing since the Sunday morning. That was when the Killer Wave first came. Could you imagine how they would have been feeling?...Yes, no one could appreciate it better than who have been in such a situation..Everytime you see a body lying a few steps away, the fear rises. You move ahead, with a lot of thoughts tormenting in the mind.....As you move your hands forward to turn the face around of the corpse...the hand trembles....you sweat....for a moment you feel not to see its face....and the curiosity rises....and when you find that.......that its not the face, familiar to you in any way....you feel relieved.....But, only for a moment. You again turn around and you notice another corpse a bit away....and again the feeling of weekness drowns you. This happens again and again as you keep looking for the bodies...moving around hastily....till your feelings gets fatigued, by repeated cycle of hope and weekness...untill you become numb...and you could not shed tears even if you happen to find that someone close to you is dead.

They were there. The crowd. They will always be there. Just to watch. Watch and gape! They just need a story to talk about when they return home. They have their dinner and sleep. As soon as the sun rises again, they forget what happened last day....and then they go out again in search of a new story.

I could not believe, its the same place, where i have been many times earlier, and enjoyed peaceful moments sitting on the shore, with my legs half-dipped in the water. The waves came, touched my feet, and receded, as if it carried all the miseries of mine to the depth of its vastness. And, this time i was afraid at the mere sight of it.

It was when i was lost in my own thoughts i heard people fighting. I turned back and saw that some social organization was distributing food to the victims. When i approached closer, it was clear that the food was not enough for all of them. And, who is strong will only get it. As my curiosity aroused by the fight died down...i heard someone weeping. It was a little girl. Just a foot away on my left, seated on a heap of stones. If you could remember the face of the poorest and the ugliest girl, begging, that you would have ever met; you would know what she looked like. I stood there. She kept crying. I didnt knew what to do. I just sat down. Maybe she was hungry! Yes, and how could she eat something if the people are fighting for themselves. Only a devil can dare fight those people and get something! She would not have got anything to eat. At the thought of it, i felt hungry. It was then that i realised that my wife had packed some food for me, while she kept shouting,"Eat it before lunch time, as you have not even touched your breakfast ",when i hurriedly left for office. I took the tiffin out and opened it. It smelled good, and i felt a sudden pain in my stomach. I moved it towards her, and waited for her to take it. But, she did not even move. She kept crying. I was looking for words to condole her....and at the same time felt angry, as i was giving her what she wanted. I looked at her and could not speak anything. And, then i realised, she needed something else more than the food. At such times its not the hunger or money which troubles, it becomes immaterial. How silly i was? How could not i understand it? How could i act like this? I wished i could flee from there.....I kept the food aside. As i moved my hand and touched her head, she suddenly thrust her face in my chest. She kept crying...while i felt the warmth of her tears on my chest.

It was time. We were standing in front of a nearby relief camp. She was to leave with the other orphaned childrens to the Childcare Centre. She was still holding my hand standing by my side..As i kept watching other childrens climbing the bus meant for them, her grip was getting firmer. As she climbed the bus i held out my tiffin and kept in her hand. It was the first time she looked at me.

I stood there as i lost the sight of the bus behind the building at the road corner.