Author: Shobha De
Publication: The Week
Date: February 18, 2001
The story of the devastating earthquake
in Gujarat is the story of women. Those who survived it. And those who
are now putting their shattered homes and lives together. When I read the
first person account of a woman named Nalini Kumbhare who'd been trapped
under the debris for three unending days and nights along with her one-and-a-half-year
old son, I tried to switch places with her and visualise the horror of
those seventy two hours. What would I have done? How would I have coped?
I found this useless mental exercise as terrifying as it was tiring. And
yet, when Nalini Kumbhare told her interviewer, "God is supreme. It is
He alone who decides when we are born and even when we die," I marvelled
at her stoic attitude. These inspiring, philosophical words of wisdom,
coming from a poor, semi-literate woman, affected me deeply. Where did
she get the inner strength from? What made her decide to feed her infant
son fistfuls of sand to keep him alive? How did she find the energy to
keep crying out for help? Her simple reply to that was equally moving.
"There was a tiny hole in the rubble, through which a piercing ray of sunlight
would penetrate the darkness around me. I would see that ray and it would
fill me with hope."
There were hundreds of women just
like Nalini in Gujarat trapped under mounds of plaster. What's amazing
is the fact that without an exception, all of them displayed rare courage
and great optimism. They refused to give up. And once they were rescued,
they refused to curse their fates. Or blame anybody. You see, they knew
instinctively there was no time to waste on the blame-game. Children had
to be bathed and fed. Husbands, cared for. In-laws, looked after. And if
there was even more grief to deal with, perhaps a child who didn't make
it, or a spouse who'd lost a limb, well then, sorrow would have to be put
on hold for a while, till the small acts of daily living and survival were
taken care of first.
At a weekend lunch hosted by a Gujarati
neighbour, primarily for other Gujarati colleagues and friends, the talk
naturally revolved around the earthquake. While the men were concerned
with damage to property, the women spoke about the damage to lives. I listened
with interest, moving from one group to the next. It was 'crore' talk with
the guys, and 'care' talk with the ladies. If the men preferred to keep
it businesslike, clinical and financial, the women stuck to emotional,
psychological and personal. If a loss of substantial property overawed
the fellows, the loss of so many lives affected the women. Even as we spoke,
I was told a story of an average middle-class housewife from our locality,
who, on hearing the news, informed her husband she was taking off for Gujarat
right there and then. And she did. After jumping into the Matador van,
this woman drove all night to reach Bhuj at dawn. Once there, she got to
work. Within hours she'd set up a community kitchen with the help of other
women from the area. And soon, they were busy ladling out hot dal and rice
to whosoever showed up at their temporary shelter.
While, I'm not putting down the
stories of sacrifice and courage that men were trading, I must say I was
somewhat disheartened when all I heard was accounts of cheque-signing and
the pledging of huge donations. As one of them boasted, "We Gujjus are
a tough lot. We know how to bounce back. There's too much at stake in Gujarat.
We can't afford to sit back and do nothing. It's bad for business." Another
man stated proudly. "Wait and see. We will build a bigger and better Gujarat.
Give us five years...." I tried not to appear too judgmental. They were
right, of course. One has to look ahead... plan... regroup. Sure, their
contributions will create a more dynamic Gujarat with safer high-rises
and superior infrastructure. But what of the other loss-the more permanent
one? What of the dead and the dying? Who will 'rebuild' fragmented families?
Or rehabilitate the emotionally dead? The 'crores' lost will be replaced
by the 'crores' pouring in. Buildings, factories, shops, schools, colleges,
cinema houses, will definitely come up. Commerce will flourish in a state
that worships it. But who will put the sparkle back into the eyes of a
mother who has gained a new house but lost the ones who'd have made it
a home-her children??
