The sirens pierce the quiet of the night as ambulances rush for help. The gasping for air, the bewildered look of helplessness in the faces of caregivers, as they see loved ones suffer.
The constant crackle of firewood as those that have passed are cremated. The smoke from these pyres tell the tales of unimaginable pain and suffering and loss.
This monster has spared no family, and no community in India. The young and the old, the healthy and the frail — no one is spared. It does not discriminate, as it destroys everything in its path — families, love, dreams, lives.
The bad news keeps coming as if the dam of hope and well-being has been breached by an invisible enemy, and there is no stopping the carnage. When will this ever end?
Hold hands with those around you and pray that this suffering, these tears, these broken homes and lives will become whole again. My heart hurts for my country, and for those I love that are riding out the storm.
About Hemant Rustogi