The Day AILA Came
- Manognya Bethapudi
- Apr 24, 2015
- 19 min read
Prologue
Fifty-year-old Mr. Basu stretched in his easy chair. The whiff of the coffee beans called out to him as he picked up his newspaper, ‘The Tribune’. Though the aroma of the coffee was ambrosial, it never reached his lips as the coffee mug came crashing down. Mr. Monotosh Basu read the deadly headline, “Cyclone AILA Swallows Coastal West Bengal”
That very moment, he understood what it felt like when the heart stops beating and when the brain stops thinking.
Part I
11.55 pm
The green waters of the creeks move slowly aided by a gentle breeze and guided by the pale moonlight. The swampy, marshy land looks darker and greener than ever. Life is almost at a standstill. Time stops in this liquid Eden, in Bhatir-desh, Tide-country, Sundarbans. Even in the seemingly tranquil surroundings, danger lurks in the form of green shining eyes of tigers peeping through the branches of the mangroves and crocodiles gliding away in the placid waters.
These omnipresent dangers are nowhere near the dangers the Tide-country is soon to face.
The predators who prey on the bountiful fauna of this fragile ecosystem will soon be preyed upon because, in the face of Nature’s fury, predator and prey are both alike.
