The ‘earth-shattering’ times of bonding

We

have known earthquakes of severe intensity to be harbingers of death and destruction, pain and misery. But the last one that caused large-scale havoc in Nepal and affected several parts of India played a positive role — at least in our housing complex. It served as a social binder and leveller. I could never imagine that in one stroke, the quake could bring about complete bonhomie, which had been eluding our housing complex for so long.

When we moved into a new flat recently, I discovered that even though most of the residents had been living there for quite some time, the majority of them did not know each other.

There had never been an occasion when they would have all been introduced to each other. Some had scanty or superficial information about others. “Yes, I hear that Mr Singhal stays on the fourth floor, but I don’t know his flat number”, someone would tell you apologetically.

Sometimes, status consciousness flowing from a comfortable past laced with ego also leads to such a mindset. But I don’t think our neighbours nurtured such thinking.

As I said earlier, it was only the lack of an opportunity to get together. An adversity like the severe quake, however, did the job.

Here, I want to point out that on that fateful day, I was supervising the unpacking of cartons in my newlyacquired apartment. There are certain things you would like to handle yourself. Owing to the sweltering summer heat, I tossed away my shirt and donned only a sleeveless vest over shorts.

Things were moving smoothly when the high intensity tremor occurred. We were jolted. The helper ran away. Our building was shaking. I looked through the long corridor. Yes, it also appeared to wobble like the wheel of a car. There was a distinct howling sound, like in the horror sent a chill down my spine.

I yelled at my arthritis-afflicted wife: “It’s an earthquake. Hurry! Come quick.” We ran towards the staircase when I realised that I was scantily clad. Seeing the intensity of the tremor, I could not have gone back to the flat to dress properly.

Yet, at a huge risk, I did go back — but only to lock the main door. As I rushed down from our sixth-floor apartment to the lower floors, I was pleasantly surprised to find a Samaritan, a lady, whom we did not know, holding my wife by her arm and escorting her down to the ground floor.

Now the crowd of strangers was at the make-shift stall of our laundry man, who irons our clothes by the roadside, away from our housing complex. He quickly spread out his wornout cot for the elderly. We were in the safe zone, yet all eyes were fixed on our tall residential structure, particularly

movies.

It because of a rumour that the quake would hit again after two hours. Mercifully, that remained just a rumour.

Thanks to the quake, the round of formal introductions started. Had it not hit that day, we would have continued to remain strangers for some more time. Men and women got busy inquiring about one another, their profiles, their families. For kids, it was a harrowing experience, which they shared with excitement and fear.

For me, it was a moment of great embarrassment because I was the only person in a sleeveless vest and shorts in a crowd of ladies and other decently dressed people. I don’t know how they managed to be properly dressed in a shaky building! Nevertheless, the quake left a stern message for me: ‘Since I come unannounced, always remain properly clad all the time — day or night’.

Lalit Raizada is a freelance journalist based in India.