Three conversations set in a village at Nuwakot, Nepal, two days after the deluge of 26th August, 2026.
1. Mother and Son
Ma, when is Pa coming back?
Don’t know son.
Tomorrow is our PTA. My teacher
wants both of you to attend.
I know Binod.
Last time he was upset with my
bad scores. This time I want him to listen to all the good things my teacher has to say
about me.
That is so good. You have really
done well this term, Binod.
You look worried, Ma.
No, I am not.
I can see it in your eyes, Ma.
Stop talking, Binod. Just leave me
alone.
Are you worried about the floods?
Yes, I am.
I heard from my friends that a
lot of people are missing.
Yes, they are.
So, you think Pa is also missing?
Don’t ask so many questions, Binod.
My Pa will come back. He is the
best sherpa in the whole world.
I know.
He is my Tiger Father, the real Sher-Pa.
Yes, he is.
He always ensures the
safety of the travellers and never takes any chances.
Hmmm… I know all of it Binod.
During the last earthquake, he brought
the full group travelling to Mansarovar back to the safety of the plains even
though it had caused so much destruction.
He sure is a hero in this countryside
and your super hero.
I am eagerly waiting to see him
smile at the PTA tomorrow.
………………….............
2. Two Friends
Two young boys are sitting
atop a tree, talking and watching the water gushing by.
Ganesh, we are saved.
Agree with you, Bimal.
The water has saved us. I am sure
there will be no PTA tomorrow.
No way. We saw the river water
entering the school yesterday. There is no way the it would have receded so
fast.
The Gods have saved us indeed.
Ya. Just think of how our
teachers would have put us to shame before our parents.
I am so happy. My report card is
red all over. Except art and sports, I failed in all other subjects.
If yours looks like the Red Sea,
mine looks like the Persian Gulf where my scores are stuck forever below pass
marks with almost all teachers dropping bombs over my subjects.
I have not shown the report card
to my father.
Same here.
The Gods must have listened to
our honest prayers. Every day since the term results came out, we have been
going to the temple, ringing the bell loudly and also dropping some coins in
the box kept there.
Hey look, there is a bus floating
away. Is that our school bus?
I cannot make out from here. It
is a yellow bus, so has to be a school bus for sure. It could be ours or of
some other school. With no buses to pick-up and drop the children back, I am
sure the school will not reopen soon.
The water level is not receding. Should we slowly get down and go home?
No, just stay for some more time.
It is fun to see all that is happening. Anyway, tomorrow is going to be a
school holiday for sure.
……………………………….
3. The Vidyalaya
A conversation between a
teenage son and his father.
Why are you standing at the
window since morning?
I am watching the destruction the
floods have caused, Nabin.
Dad, thankfully our house is at
an elevation and water has not entered here. We have not lost anything.
I have lost everything, Nabin.
The school was my life. I had built it with your mother, brick by brick.
I know Dad how you and Ma are
feeling now. But think of the positive side. Our lives are saved and we can
once again repair and build the school.
Your mother and I used to teach in a government college in Kathmandu. It was a good and stable job for both. We
had been married for just over a year and your Ma was carrying you. We came to
my parent’s home here in Nuwakot on a vacation and we saw that the children did
not have a proper school to go to. We immediately decided that we must do
something for the children here. We went back to Kathmandu, resigned from our teaching
posts and came here. Fortunately, your grandfather owned some land here and we
started our primary section under a tent.
Don’t cry, Dad. I know how much
trouble you and Ma have had to go through over the years to create the
permanent school building. You initially paid the other teachers and the staff
from your savings in the early phase.
Now that things had improved and
we had even applied to the authorities to allow us to expand the school to
matriculation level, this flood has wiped out everything we had built. In just
one big swoop, the school went under the water and the debris. Look down over there
Nabin, the water has somewhat receded and you can see the school terrace and
the water tanks. The ground floor is still submerged in the debris that the
water carried.
I have seen it, Dad. I am sure we
will get help to clean up the place soon.
Don’t worry about me, Nabin. Go
and talk to your mother who has not spoken a word or eaten a morsel since
yesterday. She is completely in shock. It was she who had inspired me to
to take the plunge into this school project and that is why when the building got
constructed, we named it after her. Manisha Vidyalaya is her baby who has now
fallen sick.
Dad, I know all about it but then
we are all helpless against the forces of nature. Why it happened on the 26th
of August is for others to find out. For us what matters most is life- the
children are all safe and so are the teachers. It was your quick thinking that
saved all their lives. You heeded to the disaster warning and immediately asked
everyone to evacuate the school. They all fled to the upper regions and then
within minutes the floods swept down with ferocity unseen before. Now we will have
to build the school afresh. This time Ma and you will not be alone. The
villagers have over the years seen your good work and how the school has
changed the lives of their children. They too will join in the efforts to clean
up and reconstruct.
You are right, Nabin. There is
hope. Send out messages to all the parents that we will be starting the school
after a week from the terraces of homes in the upper slopes.
…………………………
Epilogue: Nepal: Official records say around 1500 dead, over 6000
reported missing and a trail of unimaginable destruction.
 |
| Picture courtesy: Internet |
For how long will the wanton destruction of nature by ‘cannonballs’ of development continue? For the answer to this question, I am sharing a few lines taken randomly from an immortal song by Bob Dylan:
How many years can a mountain
exist
Before it’s washed to the seas
Yes, ‘n’ how many times must
the cannonballs fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer my friend, is
blowin’ in the winds
The answer is blowin’ in the
winds.
SS
