Lost and Found

It was a surprise to get a mail from Remi. Though I knew its on the way as Saina told me she has given Remi my id.

It was indeed nice talking to her, though it was sad to listen to her Katrina experiences. It was the first time I talk to a first hand victim of a natural calamity. Probably she was one of the most lucky ones. When she left the place as usual listening to warning, she did not know how big its gonna be. Good. Agonies delayed. And stress reduced.

What she lost? Well, a car, a house, whatever they had done to make the house look more beatiful and homely, all items that were in it for the basic life and the ones added later for that extra comfort. Much lost in the running waters. And much went to the hands of those who were fishing in those troubled waters.

As she says what she misses is not the big items that were immobile and were difficult to move. Things that dont move are generally less personally attached? For her it was those lovely memories in color print that she misses a lot. And for sure those colorful dreams of the house that she had cared so lovely I suppose. For a home is a home and will be a home. A home of dreams. Of love. Of thoughts and worries and hopes.

Is man travelling back to those old tribal days? The mobile home. Ready to pack and go. Storm, move ahead. Floods, move ahead. Famine, move ahead. There were no titles and deeds when land was in plenty. Now the deeds are for those dreams painted in sky. Like my fifth floor dream home coming up in Brigade Metropolis in Bangalore. The higher the dream is, more costly it becomes. So I settled for Fifth floor. Cannot understand the logic. Pay more to move away from "Ground Realty"?

Anyway, God save us.