An image from the future

It was a chilly November night. Murali sat on the pavement of the Pondicherry high road. The light from the streetlight gave him the false hope of warmth. It was 11 in the night. The mosquitos were not making it easy for him. He badly wanted to get back home and fall asleep. But he could not afford it. He had an exam the next day and had just started his preparation. Hindi was always difficult for him. He was a genius in Math and Science, but for a boy born and brought up in a different mother tongue, it was a tough job. He was proud when he saw his math and science performance, for he rarely prepared for those exams, and yet managed to remain in the top in his class, but when his language marks came, he used to cry. He badly wanted the trophy that went to the student who stood first in class. He had always hoped that the trophy would one day adorn his home. His marks in English and Hindi were preventing him from getting hold of that trophy.

"Not this year", was the resolution he made when he started his 11th class this year. He was well on his way to achieve what he had set out to do. But today was different, he was under terrible fatigue and was hardly able to sit tight and read. 4 hours of welding after school had caused burns in his fingers. His eyes were red from the fire. But the fire within him made him overcome the fire from the weld. "I am getting hold of that trophy this year come what may",he said to himself.

He had to earn his education by working in a mechanic shop everyday from 5-9 in the evening. 50 rupees was his daily wage. He was able to save 20 rupees from that everyday to save up for his education. He lived in an underground tunnel that was above the ground , maybe to provide a home to people like him. 2 sets of uniforms and 2 sets of daily wear were his onlu belongings apart from his books. He had salvaged enough from the dustbin to make himself a pillow and a bed sheet.

Today had not been an easy day for him. 4 hours in the mechanic shop after school had made his fingers ache. He had been welding ever since this February. Things were not always this difficult for this genius. He had a happy home. Last year was perhaps the happiest year in his life. He lived with his parents and a sister in the village Chandrapadi. It was close to Thirukadayur, a city famous for Lord Shiva's temple where Lord Shiva had punished Yama (the God of death) for trying to take the life of Markandeya.

His father was a fisherman and his mother was a homemaker. His father was uneducated, but did not want his son to be a fisherman like himself and had sent him to school. He used to take his sister along with him everyday to the Government high school. He was proud that he did not disappoint his fathers hopes by scoring very high marks in Math and Science. His only wish was to show his father the trophy of scoring the highest mark in school all subjects. But Lord Yama had other plans.

It was a clear morning sky that day. Murali and his family were having their breakfast. It was about 9.45 AM in the morning when Yama came for another attempt at where he had earler failed. This time Lord Shiva would not stop him. Things happened all of a sudden. A huge wave. "Apppaaaaaa....", "Meera, anga pohaadhey........", "Iru adha pidichikko naa varen onna kaapatha...". Another wave. A faint hint of nausea. Total Darkness.


The fury

"Murali..." came the noise from afar when he woke up with a shock all of a sudden in the Government hospital a couple of days after. His whole life went blank when he learnt what had happened. He was all alone in the world now. He wanted to run and jump into the ocean himself. He had tried that and everytime he went as close to doing it, he used to hear the voice of his father, "Manushana porandha, vaazhkaila edhayavadhu saadhikanum, illainna vaazharadhula arthame illa. Ennala saadhikka mudiala, yenna enakku padippu arivu illa, adhunala dhaan onna padikka vekkaren. Ennoda aasai ellam on moolama naa adaya poren da" ("If you are born in this world as a man, you have to achieve something in this life that you will be proud of, else there is no use living. I was not able to achieve anything that I Can be proud of, but that is the reason why I am educating you, so I can be proud because of you").

He used to feel that this would not make his father proud, and decided on that day that he would finish what his father had wanted. He coud no longer live in Thirukadayur, for the memories of his life would not let him live peacefully. He set out to Chennai to make a living. So here he was sitting under the light of the streetlight near the Pondicherry high road. It was a chilly November night.

--- I dedicate this to the memory of Hundreds of Muralis who are living today whose lives were destroyed by the one blow that the Tsunami caused earlier this year. I hope and sincerely wish, Lord Yama has had his full, for eternity, and never repeats what he did.