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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
https://twitter.com/resulp/status/1654331894392320001
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.
At some point, he called code red. His family, and the one on the left, both Hindu...they evacuated in panic.
No one thought to alert this old couple in the house at the back.
Mother woke to ankle-deep water. Rushed out. It's a sea out there. Screamed everyone's name. No one.
No one thought to alert this old couple in the house at the back.
Mother woke to ankle-deep water. Rushed out. It's a sea out there. Screamed everyone's name. No one.
Mother, 72 then, and just 4'10" or so. With my paralysed father.
And practically, the sea at the door.
Mustafa's umma, a fine old matriarch from two houses down the lane, is the only one who remembers them, and sends the son back.
And practically, the sea at the door.
Mustafa's umma, a fine old matriarch from two houses down the lane, is the only one who remembers them, and sends the son back.
He walks two miles INTO the flood to get them out.
With another to help.
And wades out with old man on shoulders, and small old lady trailing with a small bag with clothes for a day and his medicines.
Have never been able to meet him and thank him for touching my life thus.
With another to help.
And wades out with old man on shoulders, and small old lady trailing with a small bag with clothes for a day and his medicines.
Have never been able to meet him and thank him for touching my life thus.
And yes, since you asked, the biriyani Mustafa's umma sent for Id the other day was "delicious". I missed it by a few days.
Now we are all looking marooned. In this flood of toxicity. Like those coastal fisherfolk who sailed upstream into the flood to save people, looks like Kerala may yet rescue India.
https://twitter.com/mallumitron/status/1654777465225478155?t=9b-938GV9Xcd7Hk0ywVMAg&s=19
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