Tremor

Earth and Sea dance violently, waking the lazy Sunday Sun.

I sleep peacefully. I dream of people with imaginary faces and real names.

I wake up to the incessant ringing of the telephone. Eyes closed, I can hear Amma talking excitedly. Eyes open, I walk to the hall to see her gesticulating into the phone. Her voice fades to the background. I watch her eyes. My mind refuses to take in her words. I have no idea what she is excited about.

"You are awake! We had an earthquake this morning. Did you feel it?" she quips over the din of the toothbrush and paste-foam in my head - as I stand in the balcony staring at the overcast sky and the leaves that had taken on an uncomfortable green. Is the World different?

"Oh?" I turn to her. She is disappointed at my reaction. "Yes. And I felt the earth shaking. Your father thought the divan legs were giving away. He was reading the newspaper. But I knew something was strange! I knew it!!!" She follows me to the wash-basin. She seems to be happy that she has scored one over my father. He didnt know it was an earthquake but she did. Good for you, Amma!

I settle back in the couch with the Kaapi and watch her take another phone call. I realise that this has to be serious for friends and relatives from outside Chennai seem to be calling to check up on us. But all I can see is her cotton saree and the golden bangle on the hand that holds the phone receiver. She is wearing a dark red saree and it contrasts beautifully with the light grey of the telephone.

Random news channel on TV. Amma turns to me with the details after muting the same. I hear "8.5 on the Ritcher scale...", "If it had been on the land, the whole city would have been destroyed..." I shrug. She is disappointed that I am still not impressed. She persists, "Sea water came upto Triplicane." "There is no power in the whole of Mylapore."

Triplicane - Thiru Alli Keni - The Lily Lake - is now flooded. Thoughts race. "Your aunt called. They have closed the Beach Road! I asked them to come over here for lunch. There is no power there. So sad."

"Huge waves. Violent sea. So many fishermen dead!" she continues.

I am almost afraid to ask her about the casualties. I am not ready for exaggerations. I still want to enjoy her actions - her excitement at being a part of something extraordinary. Talking of death would make the whole thing too serious for me to enjoy her excitement.

I am filled with an inexplicable longing to see the sea. I tell her this. She shudders at my blasphemy.

Her light brown eyes grow serious. "I did not go to the temple this morning. You know what people are talking? God is punishing us for the arrest of the Aacharya. We are all sinners. One should never sin. Shiva Shiva." She invokes God's name and closes her eyes as though in deep meditation.

"I thought I would wake you up. What would have happened if it had hit us?" she shudders once again.

I smile at her. I know how she would react to my next statement. "Thank you for not waking me up. I would have liked to die in my sleep. It would be interesting to die while dreaming!"

"You are incorrigible. You are so irresponsible. You don't realise how serious the situation is. Do you know that the earthquakes may occur again? We may all be dead tomorrow!" She shakes her head at me and proceeds to list my myriad faults.

I channel surf languidly. I do not want to watch earthquake news. I come across a music channel. A Live show. A famous movie director talking to fans who call him up on the phone. He says he likes Simran better than Jyotika. He seems not to be worried about the earthquake or about dying the next day.

On the bottom of the screen I see the Flash News: 300 dead in Chennai. 15 missing in Kalpakkam. Great damage in Andaman Isles.

If I die tomorrow, I'd rather remember the way my mother looked when she described the earthquake to me. I'd rather remember the colour of the leaves and the taste of the morning Kaapi. I'd rather observe the incongruity of it all.

Am I Nero?