When storm clouds rage

Reading The Hungry Tide by Amitav Ghosh makes you realise how truly blessed the Goans are.

In the Sundarbans, described by Ghosh so beautifully in this book, life is lived on the edge always. People are not only poor, but struggling eternally against the elements, particularly the tides that regularly inundate the many mangrove islands. As for cyclonic storms, never in Goa have they experienced anything quite like this:

The minutes crept by and the objects flying through the air grew steadily larger. Where first there had been only twigs, leaves and branches there were now whirling coconut palms and spinning tree trunks. Priya knew the gale had reached full force when she saw something that looked like a whole island hanging suspended above their heads: it was a large clump of mangroves, held together by the trees’ intertwined roots...

Then the noise of the storm deepened and another roar made itself heard, over the rumbling din of the gale: a noise like that of a cascading waterfall... Priya glimpsed something that looked like a wall, hurtling towards them, from downriver. It was as if a city block had suddenly begun to move: the river was like pavement, lying at its feet, while its crest reared high above, dwarfing the tallest trees. It was a tidal wave, sweeping in from the sea; everything in its path disappeared as it came thundering towards them... And then it was as if a dam had broken over their heads.

In The Hungry Tide it is the landscape of the Sundarbans, more than the human characters, which dominates: beautiful, threatening, destructive.

In Goa,during the monsoons the winds sometimes travel at such tremendous speeds that coconut palms and electricity poles come crashing to the ground. Any moment, you feel, your tiled roof will be hurled away in the storm. The rain is always accompanied by deafening thunder and lightning. This lightning doesn’t simple crackle across the sky, it tears open the skies with its fierce, terrifying light. At such times the sea comes alive like some ferocious, enraged beast frothing at the mouth. And the gaping sky, sundered by lightning, looks as if it will swallow the beast alive.

Yet, it’s absolutely nothing compared to the storms in the Sundarbans.

I must keep reminding myself of this when the south-west monsoon storms hit the coastline this year. Not that I think it will help.