Fictional prose: The deluge and the deluded
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Published On:Wed, Apr 1st, 2015 Current/Daily/short story & Fiction| By The Vox Kashmir.
Short Story │
The Deluge And The Deluded
By Sana Shah
How is someone supposed to react when a person very dear to you calls you up suddenly and shouts for help, resting her last hope for life on your fragile shoulders already burdened by the pandemonium of an unexpected calamity.And here she was calling me for the umpteenth time.“Ruhat please, the water is gushing in fast, the second storey too is under the covers of water, we are now on the third storey. Please send the rescue boats, please”, Shabana said.“Don’t worry”, I said. Oh what a vain statement by my stupid self,” I have asked for the rescue boats, you will be soon saved.” My best friend Shabana had reconciled her friend with the image of a savior it appeared, hence the senseof accountability surged in my blood, had I been fooling Shabana or mocking my own conscience.The valley had been literally flooded within no time and I, with difficulty, had managed to evacuate my house along with my family to reach a safer place just in time. I had no whereabouts of my relatives and now my best friend had placed her hopes on me. What can be a greater responsibility than that of being entrusted with the task saving someone’s life?I immediately scrolled through the contact list of my phone that had little battery life left to find the number of someone who could help, but who? I already had called the local MLA forhelp an hour before and despite of his assurances, Shabana with her family was still stranded in her house in the city centre which would have been partially inundated with river waters. I had called every person I knew wouldhelp us on earth but the situation was such that their scuffle for life was impossible, let alone the commoners. All were equally hit by the deluge irrespective of how huge their bankbalance was! Now the city was more than half submerged under the expanse of water, and here she was, calling me again.“Shabana, did the boats reach?” I asked something to which I already knew the answer.“Ruhat, no. A nearby hotel just collapsed and soon our house too will fall. do something fast, please!”, she screamed.“Don’t panic and hang in there”, I terminated the conversation. Not being able to reason why but some inexplicable upwelling of guilt flushed through my veins. Someone was battling death, left marooned on the edge that promised death on one side and a faint hope of life in the other if only I could help. I wanted to go out there and save her, but how. I myself was taking refuge in the house of a distant relative in the city outskirts. All the roads would have turned into water channels by now.Perchance delivering the lectures on morality, kindness, friendship is one thing and to make those virtues tangible in the real life is anotherthing! I wanted someone to shake me up and tell me that this all was just a dream- a bad dream! I cursed myself, I cursed the world, I cursed the waters and I cursed possibly everything that I could think of. Had I become so helpless that now ‘cursing’ was my weapon instead of ‘helping’?With my eyes glued to the TV screen I dialed the helpline numbers flashing on some news channel. As luck would have it all the lines were busy and darn! Now the electricity break-down aggravated the disconnectivity with the outer world.“Come Didi, play with us,” my little cousin said,circling around my chair. Being a child was much better, at least the innocence would overshadow the sense of guilt which had to bemet with a harsh scolding by the family yet was better than being perpetually knocked by the conscience, and that is when I realized that being a human is not as easy as it appears and I had been living in this delusion of being a good human but now it was evident that I was not even a human- anymore!My soliloquy was disturbed again by the phone ring; oh it was Shabana calling again. Had my heart hardened enough to receive the call? My body was in shivers already. Shabanasaw the last flame of life in me and now what would I tell her that I was about to extinguish that last flame of life too. After gathering courage I received her call.“Ruhat- HELP! HELP!” she shouted and screeched. Her scream was loud and painful enough to weave the images of destruction in front of my eyes. Not only Shabana’s family but hundreds of other families too were struggling for life. I could visualize the scenes of vehement devastation, I could hear the innocent kids crying for help, old women chanting the prayers, men consoling their families in vain, women helplessly watching their kids drown, the debris layered up in places where once the intricately designed bungalows stood.They say torch of hope should never die down,no matter how harsh the conditions are. Well, what a way to console the human heart and fuddle the rational mind.“Did the boats reach?” I asked in a suppressedtone. “No Ruhat. Please, we do not have much time left. Save us, save my kids, save us, please, please, please….help!” she cried.“Don’t say that, Shabana. We all are trying best to rescue you, be patient and don’t panic”, I said.I tried the number of some other officials but their phones were continuously switched off and I did not have more time to try after some time. Shabana’s impassionate plea for help echoed in my ears and I felt like her criminal. With moist eyes I dialed another number but again all routes were busy! Doomsday was near for us as I could feel the beats fading away and breaths dying down and I could well smell the trouble our valley was into as I couldsense some inexplicable restlessness even though I was safe with my family. Being a mute spectator I allowed the seconds to slip away. These are the moments when life seemsuseless, I wished for death now, with the waters flooding the valley I earnestly wish for my tears to drown me as well for it is better to die knowing you were the reason to save a life instead of living with the guilt of letting someone die.As random thoughts circumambulated my mind, I consoled my mind thinking that may bethe boats would have reached Shabana, may be the rescue operation had been intensified, may be they were alright but my cogitation would land me nowhere. I needed a solid confirmation, I could not sit hands on hands, after all in such a time of crisis Shabana had called me for help and I was the one aware of the troubles she was going through and how could I declare to her that I could not help!My breathing grew heavier, sweat beads seeped and glistened on my forehead, my hands shivered immensely as I reluctantly dialed Shabana’s number. From the other end a robotic voice spoke,“The number you are trying to reach is currently not reachable, please try after sometime.” I swallowed, and my voice grew hoarse, I felt choked up. Enfeebled by all that I had seen and heard and experienced, I meekly called out to my little cousin who came running towards me with a ball. With beseeching eyes she looked at me and I said, “Dear let’s play now” and I kept my phone aside.
Credits:
Author:Sana Shah
Bio: Author is a young aspiring freelance writer currently pursuing bachelor’s degree in humanities. She tries to encapsulate themes based on current events depicting the identity conflict in a state of perpetual trouble at the same time accentuating the humanistic values from the perspective of ordinary into the extraordinary dealings of the metaphysical questions about the human existence.
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