Why is the “T” Silent

“ Let me cling hard to this refrigerator door. At least it will keep me afloat. All these years I never had the good sense to learn swimming. What ever the material the door is made of, at least it’s able to bear my seventy kilos weight, as well as keep me above the dreadful yellow murky water” thought Vijaya. She remembered her last conversation with her mother.

“Hello ma. You better speak loud. The signals seem weak. I am not coming home for this Christmas. No vacations for teachers handling senior classes. Anyway, the island is pleasant during winters and plenty of tourist. We won’t be bored in the least. Call you tomorrow. Bye for now...”, almost speaking in a high pitch, Vijaya disconnected the phone. 

Vijaya, in her forties, was working as a teacher in a residential school on the Andaman Islands. The sea , the beautiful island, good people and of course the famous historical cellular jail attracted her so much that she got herself posted on the island which normally others treated as punishment posting. Her two children Vinay and daughter Valli accompanied her and got enrolled in the same school. 

On 24th December, 2004 all the students left for home. Only the 12th grade students about forty in number were asked to report a day after the Christmas for special classes to prepare for the up coming Board exams. Vijaya and few other staff were happy to enjoy the short freedom till the students return. 

On Christmas Eve, Mrs. Breganza invited the handful staff for the party. Vijaya, along with her children, Ms. Karuna, the Science teacher, Mr. Verma , the clerk and the respective families attended the party. It was past midnight. Lot of food, games and music made Vijaya and kids so happy that she felt that it was wise to stay back instead of rushing to her hometown in Tamil Nadu.

Vijaya , usually an early riser, slept longer than usual on 26th December. “Within a few hours the special class senior students would return like the irksome black ants moving in the kitchen but generally don’t bite”, thought the sleepy teacher. “ Why my feet feel wet. It must be my inner conscience asking me to learn swimming or is the neighbour’s dog Ginger treating me as a lamppost, yuk. How disgusting”, Vijaya opened her eyes. 

The bed was almost like an island with water all around . Shoes, socks, books all floating like marine creatures in the sea . She woke up with a start. Her first thought was the children. She waded through the water to the other bedroom. Both the kids were sleeping peacefully oblivious of the deluge. She grabbed the children one by one and quickly shoved them on the attic as if she was throwing unwanted luggage. The children who were awake by now, simply looked wide eyed at their mother and the water below.

“ Don’t move from here until I don’t come back”, Vijaya instructed both. The water was already waist deep. She moved towards kitchen. The pans, pots, spoons, ladles, cups, plates, and even vegetables and bottles holding pulses were floating. She was reminded of the description of the famous ‘Titanic’ the lesson in the literature text how every item from tables, chairs, crockery and even chandeliers of the ballroom started floating after the ship wreck. She noticed the refrigerator door too was floating and all the food from inside spilled like an Intestine torn out from one’s stomach. She quickly grabbed a biscuit tin and moved back to the attic and threw the tin at Vinay and was happy that the boy caught it smartly, showing his cricketing skill of being a good fielder.

Vijaya wondered what could be the reason of this apocalypse. Was the world coming to an end. By any chance has the over head tank on her house broke and all the water had  come in? She again waded to the nearest window.

“Oh God ! Where was Mrs. Breganza’s garden, they had enjoyed the party last night?All that one could see was the chimney of the beautiful white bungalow where the Principal lived. 

“ So much of all this water! By some chance has the sea moved towards the campus. But this is my wild imagination. I never heard or read about such things. Only read about Noah’s ark in the Bible and the ‘Matsya (fish) avatar’ in Bhagvatam, the great Hindu spiritual book. But what do I do now? I can’t become a mermaid and swim in this water. The water is almost touching my chin. I don’t want to drown in this yellow dirty water. Let me keep myself afloat”, that is how Vijaya ended floating on the refrigerator door. 

A big wave now pushed her outside the house. She felt like the ancient mariner with water everywhere and not a drop to drink or a speck of dry place to take shelter. She was enjoying floating on the water. She lifted her head. “Oh my my ! Who’s there sitting on the coconut tree ? Arrey it’s Mr. Verma. Look how tight he is clinging to the tree. I wonder how did the five footer managed to climb such a tall tree. Wish he could pluck few coconuts and throw them down . My throat is parched up. Hello! Mr. Verma how did you climb the tree. Did you practice earlier?” Called out the innocent Vijaya. 

Fear was written in bold letters on Mr. Verma’s face. He clinged to the tree so tight that his veins seemed to burst. All he managed to say, “ No , I did not climb the tree. I was thrown so high by the wave that luckily I landed on this tree”. 

Vijay on the refrigerator door and Mr. Verma on the coconut tree reminded of the famous fable from Panchatantra ‘ The monkey and the crocodile’. Vijaya paddled her hands to move further. She guessed that she was somewhere near the school laboratory. The floating debris of a specimen bottle of a Scorpio from biology lab, the voltammeter of physics lab and the test tube holders and titration stands of chemistry lab clearly indicated the location like artefacts found near a historical ruins which give the clue. 

She didn’t want to move too far from her house. She was worried about the kids stowed in the attic. The sky was blue, the sun was shining bright but water was everywhere. It reminded her of those Japanese way of torturing the prisoners of war who would be drowned by a hose pipe inserted in their stomach on a dry land. She still didn’t understand the strange phenomenon. Whatever it might be. She got a life time experience of floating on the water. At least she won’t die with a regret of not able to experience the feeling of swimming on a beautiful blue lagoon. Her eyelids felt heavy and slowly she drifted into sleep and dreamt of being invited to the Olympics to perform synchronised swimming.

“ Wake up ! Wake up! Vijaya”, she faintly heard a familiar voice and found the Principal Mrs. Breganza shaking her shoulders. She found her self sleeping on the refrigerator door,in a pool of mud and slush. All the water had receded. It was already two days. Far away, she saw someone helping Mr. Verma to climb down the coconut tree. 

She rushed to her house to see her two children huddled in the attic surrounded by mud splashed walls and furniture. Thankfully the biscuits helped them to stay awake and not fall into the watery grave.

It’s called ‘ Tsunami’, Vijaya heard someone saying. An earthquake caused in the sea is responsible for the giant waves , killing thousands of people. Many who experienced Tsunami were in shock and it took them long time to recover but not for Vijaya.

“I am glad I could experience the apocalypse and still be alive to narrate. I enjoyed the pleasure of floating in water. Only odd is the spelling “TSUNAMI”, why it should start with a ‘T’ silent”, thought our Dear Vijaya.