(Re-created from my Facebook post during the 2018 flood disaster in Kerala)
The Magic Box
I still remember the first KSRTC bus entering our school campus somewhere past 7:30pm. 87 human beings from around 24 families, most with just the wet clothes they had on and a very few with a small box and a mat. It felt like their whole life's efforts had just shrinked into that tiny little box. And wondered how much more would they need to suffer to get things out of that little box so that life gets back to normal! The fury of nature had just brought life to a grinding halt!
That day we had just returned from visiting various nearby camps to distribute relief material. Some were so happy and cried to see the help being given. Some sent us back at the gate itself since our packets included a mix of things brand new and some as good as new. They only wanted new and packed things! At one camp they had already formed two groups based on their wards. And they themselves seemed confused which 'group' should receive the relief material. So much confidence on some faces that I even started having doubts if we really were doing 'relief' work! But then I started noticing those genuine faces stuck in between these noisemakers. Some with just a little box in hand, others with none!
Over the past days, I've personally got some insults and more heart breaks. Once from a political leader in our area who felt I should not have given relief material to a nearby camp without informing him and taking him along. He thought i was trying to belittle him because I was that rich brat in the neighbourhood. For a moment he made me wonder why I did not just sit in my second floor room watching this disaster unfold on my LED TV (which I still haven't bought) and forwarding post after post on beef, women, dams and what all junk evaluations and opinions I could find on my social media pages!
My friends told me of incidents where even sanitary pads were not being given to the needy due to petty ego, politics and geographic boundaries. There were stories of some camp offices growing bigger than a super market but they were not willing to share things with other camps in need. There were incidents in a close by shop where the shop keeper was beaten up as he could not afford to give out 500 pairs of slippers to charity!
In all this political junk filled with ego's and prejudices, I'm hoping these people can just go back home soon. I'm just hoping that all these people in Kerala who got together and kicked into action without waiting for any political or administrative interference, get to all these genuine families and help them get their own little boxes. And then, as they open their little magic boxes, the efforts and hard work of their lives would unfold in front of them and their life would just get back to normal!
The Heroes
Around 8 years back when I had just joined Trinity School, there was this tall and thin student whom I used to see almost every day evening. While I would be going back home after school, he would be coming for probably his tuition. Before I could really know him, a disaster happened. We lost him in a road accident an afternoon while our school was celebrating our Alumni Day. I still have a list I collected the previous day. Of students from his class who would be coming to support the alumni day programs. His name is written in the list as number thirteen! He somehow was unable to turn-up at school and just after our program ended we started getting calls of one of the saddest moments till date in our school.
The Magic Box
I still remember the first KSRTC bus entering our school campus somewhere past 7:30pm. 87 human beings from around 24 families, most with just the wet clothes they had on and a very few with a small box and a mat. It felt like their whole life's efforts had just shrinked into that tiny little box. And wondered how much more would they need to suffer to get things out of that little box so that life gets back to normal! The fury of nature had just brought life to a grinding halt!
That day we had just returned from visiting various nearby camps to distribute relief material. Some were so happy and cried to see the help being given. Some sent us back at the gate itself since our packets included a mix of things brand new and some as good as new. They only wanted new and packed things! At one camp they had already formed two groups based on their wards. And they themselves seemed confused which 'group' should receive the relief material. So much confidence on some faces that I even started having doubts if we really were doing 'relief' work! But then I started noticing those genuine faces stuck in between these noisemakers. Some with just a little box in hand, others with none!
Over the past days, I've personally got some insults and more heart breaks. Once from a political leader in our area who felt I should not have given relief material to a nearby camp without informing him and taking him along. He thought i was trying to belittle him because I was that rich brat in the neighbourhood. For a moment he made me wonder why I did not just sit in my second floor room watching this disaster unfold on my LED TV (which I still haven't bought) and forwarding post after post on beef, women, dams and what all junk evaluations and opinions I could find on my social media pages!
My friends told me of incidents where even sanitary pads were not being given to the needy due to petty ego, politics and geographic boundaries. There were stories of some camp offices growing bigger than a super market but they were not willing to share things with other camps in need. There were incidents in a close by shop where the shop keeper was beaten up as he could not afford to give out 500 pairs of slippers to charity!
In all this political junk filled with ego's and prejudices, I'm hoping these people can just go back home soon. I'm just hoping that all these people in Kerala who got together and kicked into action without waiting for any political or administrative interference, get to all these genuine families and help them get their own little boxes. And then, as they open their little magic boxes, the efforts and hard work of their lives would unfold in front of them and their life would just get back to normal!
The Heroes
Around 8 years back when I had just joined Trinity School, there was this tall and thin student whom I used to see almost every day evening. While I would be going back home after school, he would be coming for probably his tuition. Before I could really know him, a disaster happened. We lost him in a road accident an afternoon while our school was celebrating our Alumni Day. I still have a list I collected the previous day. Of students from his class who would be coming to support the alumni day programs. His name is written in the list as number thirteen! He somehow was unable to turn-up at school and just after our program ended we started getting calls of one of the saddest moments till date in our school.
Over the past few days, while our campus was buzzing with relief work,
there was this silent team who kept adding emergency low stock materials
to our small collection centre. No noise to be heard. No selfies to be
liked. No banners to be known. But each day they were somewhere out
there with whatever stuff they could manage to get from the low stock
list I used to send out every night. One small team of our ex-students
who single handedly turned a tragedy of one home into a blessing for the
people across our district. Close to a decade after Rahul left us, his
memories still stay strong in many minds through these classmates of
his. These are our little heroes. Ones who make us feel proud to be part
of the Trinity family. They came together in a disaster and created a
blessing. As they do not want to be named here let's just call them The
Rahul Memorial Team.
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