We had all seen storms, we thought. Cyclone Aila blustered through the city for three days uprooting trees and destroying mangroves in the Sunderbans and almost lifted me off my feet when I made the mistake of trying to cross the office courtyard. Cyclone Fani had me walking from office to catch visiting hours in Park Clinic where my mother was admitted. Now Amphan? That sounded sort of like ampanna and in any case, the speculation was that the cyclone would do a detour to Bangladesh. How bad could it be? However, the papers were filled with warnings for high rise buildings and “Stay Home Stay Safe” messages.
On Wednesday morning, Amphan was fretting grey skies and I managed a trip for medicines before the shop shut at noon. I saw some dangling lights on a lamppost and wondered in what shape they would be after Amphan but it was a passing thought. Yes, some more trees would get uprooted, some lampposts would topple...normal stuff. This was a city after all, not the Sunderbans. By four o’ clock the skies were beginning to darken; I had the computer on and was trying to finish some work from home before I turned off the broadband – my main worry since the Airtel junction box crossed Rashbehari Avenue and was exposed to all kinds of wind and weather.
All the windows had been shut – though the house was old. We roped some of the ones where the bolts had been painted over and thought: all right, we are good to go, let Amphan do its worst. The road below was deserted barring the tail lights of a few cars that looked distorted in the veranda glass while passing by.
Passersby look at an uprooted lamp post following super cyclone 'Amphan', in Kolkata. Photo: PTI
The rain started lashing at five and the power began to flicker on and off. There wasn’t much wind but the power lines were a worry. Without power and no emergency lights, cooking and the other necessities would be a problem. A friend on the phone, the last call I made before the strike, cried, “This is climate change! We’re doing this!”
Jurassic Park hit us around six. It tore around the house trying to get in through the nooks and crannies, shaking and rattling with low growls of thunder. Glass shattered from a window that had torn free of its moorings. The old veranda windows held and I sat in darkness and watched the old banyan tree outside clawing against the panes. There was a shout from the cook that we would need more rope so there was frantic window tying.
There was a stream of water in my bedroom coming from under the new sliding windows. Sliding and skidding I discarded four sopping mops and a few torn trousers trying to stem the water.
