Monday, August 06, 2012

Have watched more TV news since Saturday afternoon than for the entire year.  Have stared at the tiger-pouncing raging waters of the Bhagirathi, its color a dirty brown, angrily surging ahead. Have watched the shots of the Ganga looking like a violent sea, breaching banks. Pushpavathi and Alaknanda swollen to many times their earlier gentle- stream sizes. Of all the tourists and pilgrims stranded on the highway for hours, stopped short by landslides. Hundreds rendered homeless in the cold. And those buildings toppling over like a piece of wobbly jelly.
When nature stops us short, we are NOTHING.
A few more hours and I would have been there, trapped in that chaos.
Thank you, Mister God.
Once again, I have been shielded, protected from havoc.


Sudipta Chatterjee said...

Came here from Shruthi's blog.

Wow... that seemed close!

And the post itself has a certain lyrical quality to it... perhaps you need to rewrite this as poetry?

Arunima said...

Mr God makes us feel his presence at such situations.

austere said...

thanks, Sudipta.. will cut paste as my poetry sub. :)

Arunimo- yep.

PQ said...

You were planning a trip there?