The dust devil
The time was around 6 pm on 16th April 2025. The place: Jammu city. The day was Wednesday. I, accompanied by my friend, was on my way back home from work. Gently cruising along in the office car; looking out the window every now and then to see people walking or driving or riding past me. A few vegetable and fruit hawkers peddled their stuff to the haggling buyers. An expressway is presently under construction on the road, and massive piles of construction material and mounds of excavated earth dotted around almost the entire stretch. A few vehicles, including hoopties, were parked on the road on either side- not as many as you would find on city roads elsewhere - limiting the space and making the commute not at all a particularly happy experience. A few plants sprang from the median; and at a few places vestiges of disorderly verges could also be seen only if you cared to look closely.
April evenings are the best you have in a year in as far as the evenings go. They are neither too hot nor too cold. Nor too soupy; and, by no means, too muggy either. They have just the right temperature for whatever you want to do. The closest rival is possibly the October evenings. One sits at the threshold of the onset of summer, the other is the herald of winter.
As I neared home, I sensed that the atmosphere was undisguisedly calm. Then in a trice it turned gloomy. There had not been such a freakish evening up until the days that led up to this eerily calm Wednesday evening. Something was on the way, it appeared. There was a forecast for stormy weather over the next few days or so I was told. But it had not been on my mind for some reason until it came to pass; until all hell broke loose.
7: 30 pm is when the wind started flowing; gentler in the beginning, and then it gathered pace, and more pace, and still more pace, till it became rebellious. It was like a fury unleashed. Thank heavens, I had reached home and already washed down. Before long, the wind fury reached the crescendo. In came then the rain in its slipstream, and looking ominous. Not a downpour, but more than a drizzle, and it lashed against the window panes helped by the storm fury. The storm whistled, squeaked and blew dust and sand and lifted the wall of dust all around.
The light had already gone out; as it generally does at the first sight of storms. I ran to the windows and doors to see that they were latched to resist the buffeting. A loose window pane rattled on the first floor; I ran quickly to fix it. On my way back, I glimpsed that the lashing rain water had forced its way through the gaps in the windows as well as underneath the doors.
A little later, I gingerly ventured out to see the storm in its full fury; rather its impact up until then. Without doubt, the storm was dark and foreboding. It seemed to me that perhaps it rained heavily in the beginning, but had slackened just a little bit afterwards. However, it was enough to make the dust and sand thicken on the floor outside, making it difficult to mop the resultant grime. As the power was off, only a strong bulb on inverter glowed above on the ceiling, throwing a bright circle of light below on the mayhem. I remained rooted just outside the threshold and could not summon the courage to move any further. It was quite a scene. Quite a mess.
The monstrous storm seemed to have lifted everything that came its way and flung it afar: the shoe rack was knocked over; and the stuff inside it thrown here and there; the heavy swing in the terrace was detached from its stand and tossed away; the flowerpots; vases; clothes dryer stand, and garden chairs and tables all went for a tumble. Spring flowers; small plants and creepers in the house garden were all jolted out of their spring time bliss. The lawn was littered with refuse from the bins it had flipped and sent flying, as well as leaves stripped from the trees. The storm had swirled coarse dry soil and sand around the lawn, leaving behind plants that looked like they had been in a grinder.
The storm continued to rage. A couple of dogs in the distance barked in utter desperation. The clanks of an iron gate- somewhere in near vicinity- being buffeted by the howling winds echoed over the squeaks and fiercely whooshing sounds of the raging storm. It was then I heard a loud cracking or popping sound piercing through the cacophony of noises; perhaps a tree had already fallen or was about to fall somewhere. It was difficult to make sense of what had happened through the medley of voices that you were drowned in. In the meantime, the cloud of sand and dust continued to swirl around; silhouetted against the light of a lone glowing bulb hung in the verandah of a house across the road. The blowing dust hit me in the face and entered my nostrils. I shut my eyes, blinded as I was by the plumes of dust devil and ran back into the house.
There was nothing that could be done at that instant except turn off all the light switches and go to bed. Power was not expected until morning and without power there is nothing that gets done these days. Given the ferocity of storm, it would have been daft to stay up on power using inverter as there was no knowing when power will be restored- in the morning, afternoon or in the worst case scenario, day after. Thus, I hit the bed with a fan gently whirring over me.
At 5.00 am, I woke up to a blue sky along with a tapestry of mild red and orange hues, as the first morning light streamed into the room through a window whose blinds stood rolled up. I walked up to stand by the wide window glass, and scanned the surroundings. It was cool and reassuringly calm. It was then I walked out of the main door to get a sense of what actually happened the past night. As hyperbolic as it sounds, but if storm were an invading army, the scene outside looked like as though a city had been taken by siege by an invading army and ravaged.
( The writer is a novelist and author of two books-‘ Every sky is not blue’ and ‘Wild lilies in the backyard’)
