Let’s enjoy Muhammad Abubakar Mian’s response on a topic ‘Natural Disaster’ – a topic meant for story writing. There are many more worthy of getting posted here. The class was giving the challenge of following the theme of ‘sacrifice’ in their stories. So has this one. A very successful attempt, indeed!

Soothing balm on a weeping heart  .............. (Natural Disaster)

Progress in science and technology has now given seismologists (people who study earthquakes and related phenomena) the power to accurately predict where an earthquake is likely to occur. Unfortunately, they are not yet able to foresee when exactly it will happen. So when my wife, Amelia, and I bought our first house, it was not without knowing the danger of a looming disaster. We purchased a beautifully constructed Victorian style home in a small Californian suburb. Everything about it was perfect, except for the fact that it was in very close proximity to a fault line. “It’s nothing to worry about” we thought… oh how wrong we had been.

The earthquake hit without warning on the 15^th of August, 2004. It was an early Saturday morning and my wife and I had been enjoying breakfast. Suddenly, the house began to tremble with ferocious convulsions. With a burst of adrenaline pumping through my body, I took hold of Amelia’s hand and we made our way outside. I still remember very clearly the frightened look on her face as we huddled together in an open field. The tremors lasted quite a few minutes, and were followed by a false sense of tranquility. I knew there was something terribly wrong. Earthquakes usually only last a few seconds and rarely go past the one-minute mark. It was after the earthquake finally subsided did my neighbors and I realize the grave situation we now found ourselves in. This was a large scale earthquake that spread over a span of 1000 kilometers, according to reports on the radio.

Many would imagine the greatest difficulty coming from the lack of electricity. That was, however, the least of our worries. No one knew about the water shortage until the next day. Sunday evening, Mr. Jefferson, the widower living across the street, came running outside. The noise he was making piqued my interest, and I went out to see what was going on. “There’s no more water! There’s no more water!” Mr. Jefferson shouted. Slowly, as his words started to click in the minds of the people around him, terror began to fill the already heavy atmosphere. Aghast, I quickly ran back inside and locked the door. Behind me, I could already hear the others bolting their doors shut in much the same way. No one was willing to help Mr. Jefferson. Once faced with immense difficulty in such an unfortunate situation, people tend to help no one but themselves. From the window, I could see Mr. Jefferson sitting on the sidewalk. His face was already showing signs of dehydration.  

“Don’t even think about it!” my wife screeched. “We have to help him… he’ll die out there!” I retorted. “..But we can’t afford helping him.” She responded. “And we can’t let him suffer either.” I replied. Upon hearing this, my wife came to her senses and opened the door for me. I walked out onto the porch and signaled Mr. Jefferson inside. “Water…” he gasped. I can’t describe in words how very hugely relieved he felt. The expression on his face that my eyes photographed is still safe in my remote memory. I felt as if I had put a soothing balm on his weeping heart.

Once he was feeling a bit better, we started talking about how he had finished all the running water in his house. After a few minutes of deliberation, we concluded that the water in the neighborhood was disproportionately distributed. Some houses had more water available to them than others. This is when I took the liberty of explaining to him that, from here on out, we all have to be very careful with our water usage.

A radio broadcast later that night told us that the situation would not normalize for at least another four to five days. We were advised to stay inside our homes and to ration all food and water supplies. I had done my part in helping someone out, now if only other people started doing their part. If my neighborhood was any example, our community was suffering from a dire need of Good Samaritans. Without them, we may not be able to survive.

Muhammad Abubakar Mian
O' Levels 2nd Year
PakTurk International Schools & Colleges
Chak Shahzad
Islamabad