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2018. Kerala floods.
Everybody had fled, abandoning my old parents.
This man whose name I do not know, he returned and carried my paralysed 87-year-old father on his shoulders for two miles in waist-deep floodwaters.
I only know him as "Mustafa's brother".
#MyKeralaStory
Everybody had fled, abandoning my old parents.
This man whose name I do not know, he returned and carried my paralysed 87-year-old father on his shoulders for two miles in waist-deep floodwaters.
I only know him as "Mustafa's brother".
#MyKeralaStory
It had been raining. Incessantly. For days.
And old paddy area on the edge of town. Now suburban housing. Naturally, low-lying and vulnerable. But they all said "no danger".
At night, as the rains kept up, pond and drain and surrounding wetlands all merged into one big ocean.
And old paddy area on the edge of town. Now suburban housing. Naturally, low-lying and vulnerable. But they all said "no danger".
At night, as the rains kept up, pond and drain and surrounding wetlands all merged into one big ocean.
Mother, tending to father alone, was mindful but not yet worried. They slept, secure in the thought of neighbours.
Next door, the man sat on the stairs leading to his first floor with a torch, watching the waters seep in and gradually rise. The lights had gone off.
Next door, the man sat on the stairs leading to his first floor with a torch, watching the waters seep in and gradually rise. The lights had gone off.
