The Trembling World

Posted: May 25, 2015 by Arushi in Original Fiction, Thoughts
Tags: , , , , ,

Recently there have been multiple earthquakes – with their epicenter in Nepal. While most of their destruction has been felt by Nepal, the tremors reverberated all across North India. Anyone in touch with Asian headlines should be aware of this. That is not exactly what this post is about. Its about an image. One single – very vivid image that was painted across my mind when I felt the tremors of the earthquake. They weren’t earthshaking (har-de-har) but they lasted nearly two minutes and from the balcony of a ninth story flat – they gave me one hell of a perspective.

Let me start painting my image for you:

I live in Gurgaon – fast becoming a city of high rises. I love it. But all I could see was the pretty granite floor below and the insignificant splat I would make on it. And with the tons of concrete (and other things that make up a building going on top) from my building, and the 10 or so buildings near it, no one would ever even find my bones.

I really don’t recommend being on a balcony during an earthquake. Or any calamity. Its not safe but it definitely makes you appreciate life more.

Once I got over the splat mark I would make on the ground – I actually wondered about the rest of NCR. And yep. the earthquake was still going and nope I had not evacuated – me and the two guys fixing up my AC.  Which in retrospect should have been the first thing for us to do.

And then it started dancing in front of my eyes and hasn’t stopped haunting me since. A picture of all these cool looking high rises – beautiful marvels of architectures – shattered beyond repair. Cracked by something so powerful, nothing made by man stands a chance. A land of broken wonders, left by its people because it is not habitable anymore – for years – simply because we could not retrieve all the rotting dead. Where you are just as likely to find a desiccated corpse as some lost valuable – and where finally those not wanted by society have started to creep in. Not wanted anywhere else, they have started to call this place home – have started picking on its bones like vultures.

Yes I do have a very active imagination. And yes, this can be any post-apocalyptic or dystopian landscape – but this wasn’t. This was India. No where else can ever become this travesty – because no one else has the numbers. We do. God help us, we do.

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