The Floods of 2019: will it vanquish Kerala?
One of the tragic aspects of adaptation to climate change is that people cannot react quickly enough to the way in which the earth defines the new patterns of events and activities. Anyone who was present in Kerala during the last week, from 8th to 12th August 2019, knows that the velocity of rain was such, that it appeared as if the sky was falling. The usual hush of rain falling mediated by the trees and tiled roofs was replaced by a terrible sound rather like gunshots of staccato dripping sounds, the hardness of which bit into one's brain.
Globalisation has meant that more airports have opened in Kerala, and the people who work in the Gulf, Europe, America and Australia often choose August to return home, because that is when they get their vacation. Return to the homestead involves sometimes travelling vast distances along the length and breadth of Kerala because one airport or another shuts down. Yet, they start their journey not knowing when or whether they will reach their destination. They feel love, energy, fear, intense ambition, and when there is an obstacle they seek to bypass it, by calling on clan and neighbourhood loyalties, they make phone calls, change their tickets, but forward they must proceed. What we know is that while they see the earth and water cloying together, being washed into the sea, when they see their beloved hills being washed away, they feel that they might not reach home, but at least they tried.
What is most surprising is how efficiently the local administration moves in, and local communities are in the forefront, in terms of providing relief. Television and smart phone visuals accompany the floating population of viewers everywhere. Yet, the actual mismanagement of flood operations last August came from the efficiency yardstick, that a certain quantum of electricity generation had to be completed and the shutters were all opened simultaneously, flooding the inhabitants in such a way that thousands had to escape to relief stations, or "camps". This year, the Kerala government was careful not to fill the dams, but the velocity of the rain for the four days from 8th to 11th August was such, that flooding occurred on a massive scale, and the landslides in the Western Ghats was blamed on the settlers, for building their homes on laterite soil, which crumbles easily. The army reached four days later, and Rahul Gandhi was seen plodding through the mud, in Wayanad,with his hands locked together behind his back, comforting those who had lost their families and all their material goods. Good intentions are not enough, there has to be the ability to provide in times of loss, and politicians would do well to make commitments to the future, rather than assuring temporary relief, which remain promises. As a young man said to the tv camera, "We are poor people, who live day by day."The fact that the dams were kept empty, and require the Retreating monsoon to fill its capacity mean that Kerala will have to face new problems regarding water distribution to the towns, and electricity generation. This year the floods were caused by the quantam of rainfall, and not by the opening of the dams.
As we watch the rain taking over, and wonder from day to day, whether it will be possible to get back to work, knowing that we are guests on planet earth, there is a certain insouciance that politicians who have the backing of the people communicate. They seem fearless, though the idea of the persistence of 100,000 crores in debt is something which is totally ennervating. In December 2018, there were no signs of the floods of August 2018. Everything had been cleaned, whitewashed, rebuilt. In early August there were seven sunny days, and the roads were in excellent condition, from 1st to 7th August, mild drizzles, some heavy rain at night. The Boat Races were anticipated, Allapuzha town was building up to the excitement of the Nehru Trophy. All those dreams were washed away by the thunder storms of 8th August. The communists were totally disappointed, but tv showed that Prof Thomas Issac was travelling in country boats, assuring victims of the flood, that they had been provided help last year, and their problems would be addressed this year too. When one understands that the language of affirmation was met with smiling certainty, on both sides, as tv crew showed us, then we know that subsistence society actually depends on the truth value of these claims, the certitude of help coming from the State. Yet, the actual redistribution of goods when it does arrive shows that there is a certain imbalance. This only means that some people get excess, depending on their geographical location, or their organisational membership, and those who are distant from these, remain destitute. For the Keralite, this swing between aspiration, ardour for work and honour, and the sudden slip into penury is hard to handle.Kerala is a fantasy land for tourists, and this new turn to dread is hard to handle. One man said at the airport to television crew, "Yes, it is dangerous, and we will reach when we reach, but it is Kerala, Naad (country/home) is it not?"
Organic farming which had been the mainstay for many families is suddenly a space of tremendous losses, as the entire season's crop disappears into the sludge. This is the second year that people have lost everything they grew, along with valuable spice and coconut trees felled by the monsoon and the force of the winds. This year they are not even sure of receiving donations from the rest of the country, and the Centre has been bilious in its remarks that Keralites have been punished for beef eating. Ofcourse, this is part of an ideological push toward vegetarianism and a homogenising Hinduism, which the Keralites have rejected. Farmers have said that they have not received insurance money for losses in last year's floods. As the rain falls unabatedly, and the sun shone only on 12th August 2019, a long and desperate situation remains, dampening the hearts of Malayalis. The long wait for the joys of Onam and the surcease of the ballast of rain is punctuated by the social scientists' hope that those who live in Kerala will understand that anticipation of the floods in August is something they have to live with annually. Traditionally, it was called Pattinni Massam, or The Hunger Month.
One of the tragic aspects of adaptation to climate change is that people cannot react quickly enough to the way in which the earth defines the new patterns of events and activities. Anyone who was present in Kerala during the last week, from 8th to 12th August 2019, knows that the velocity of rain was such, that it appeared as if the sky was falling. The usual hush of rain falling mediated by the trees and tiled roofs was replaced by a terrible sound rather like gunshots of staccato dripping sounds, the hardness of which bit into one's brain.
Globalisation has meant that more airports have opened in Kerala, and the people who work in the Gulf, Europe, America and Australia often choose August to return home, because that is when they get their vacation. Return to the homestead involves sometimes travelling vast distances along the length and breadth of Kerala because one airport or another shuts down. Yet, they start their journey not knowing when or whether they will reach their destination. They feel love, energy, fear, intense ambition, and when there is an obstacle they seek to bypass it, by calling on clan and neighbourhood loyalties, they make phone calls, change their tickets, but forward they must proceed. What we know is that while they see the earth and water cloying together, being washed into the sea, when they see their beloved hills being washed away, they feel that they might not reach home, but at least they tried.
What is most surprising is how efficiently the local administration moves in, and local communities are in the forefront, in terms of providing relief. Television and smart phone visuals accompany the floating population of viewers everywhere. Yet, the actual mismanagement of flood operations last August came from the efficiency yardstick, that a certain quantum of electricity generation had to be completed and the shutters were all opened simultaneously, flooding the inhabitants in such a way that thousands had to escape to relief stations, or "camps". This year, the Kerala government was careful not to fill the dams, but the velocity of the rain for the four days from 8th to 11th August was such, that flooding occurred on a massive scale, and the landslides in the Western Ghats was blamed on the settlers, for building their homes on laterite soil, which crumbles easily. The army reached four days later, and Rahul Gandhi was seen plodding through the mud, in Wayanad,with his hands locked together behind his back, comforting those who had lost their families and all their material goods. Good intentions are not enough, there has to be the ability to provide in times of loss, and politicians would do well to make commitments to the future, rather than assuring temporary relief, which remain promises. As a young man said to the tv camera, "We are poor people, who live day by day."The fact that the dams were kept empty, and require the Retreating monsoon to fill its capacity mean that Kerala will have to face new problems regarding water distribution to the towns, and electricity generation. This year the floods were caused by the quantam of rainfall, and not by the opening of the dams.
As we watch the rain taking over, and wonder from day to day, whether it will be possible to get back to work, knowing that we are guests on planet earth, there is a certain insouciance that politicians who have the backing of the people communicate. They seem fearless, though the idea of the persistence of 100,000 crores in debt is something which is totally ennervating. In December 2018, there were no signs of the floods of August 2018. Everything had been cleaned, whitewashed, rebuilt. In early August there were seven sunny days, and the roads were in excellent condition, from 1st to 7th August, mild drizzles, some heavy rain at night. The Boat Races were anticipated, Allapuzha town was building up to the excitement of the Nehru Trophy. All those dreams were washed away by the thunder storms of 8th August. The communists were totally disappointed, but tv showed that Prof Thomas Issac was travelling in country boats, assuring victims of the flood, that they had been provided help last year, and their problems would be addressed this year too. When one understands that the language of affirmation was met with smiling certainty, on both sides, as tv crew showed us, then we know that subsistence society actually depends on the truth value of these claims, the certitude of help coming from the State. Yet, the actual redistribution of goods when it does arrive shows that there is a certain imbalance. This only means that some people get excess, depending on their geographical location, or their organisational membership, and those who are distant from these, remain destitute. For the Keralite, this swing between aspiration, ardour for work and honour, and the sudden slip into penury is hard to handle.Kerala is a fantasy land for tourists, and this new turn to dread is hard to handle. One man said at the airport to television crew, "Yes, it is dangerous, and we will reach when we reach, but it is Kerala, Naad (country/home) is it not?"
Organic farming which had been the mainstay for many families is suddenly a space of tremendous losses, as the entire season's crop disappears into the sludge. This is the second year that people have lost everything they grew, along with valuable spice and coconut trees felled by the monsoon and the force of the winds. This year they are not even sure of receiving donations from the rest of the country, and the Centre has been bilious in its remarks that Keralites have been punished for beef eating. Ofcourse, this is part of an ideological push toward vegetarianism and a homogenising Hinduism, which the Keralites have rejected. Farmers have said that they have not received insurance money for losses in last year's floods. As the rain falls unabatedly, and the sun shone only on 12th August 2019, a long and desperate situation remains, dampening the hearts of Malayalis. The long wait for the joys of Onam and the surcease of the ballast of rain is punctuated by the social scientists' hope that those who live in Kerala will understand that anticipation of the floods in August is something they have to live with annually. Traditionally, it was called Pattinni Massam, or The Hunger Month.
