28 April 2015

Rubble and Dust


It tastes like entropy.

It burns like acid and bile.

I never knew that grief felt so much like fear.

I had no idea.

None at all.

I have never had faith or religion but I have always found solace and peace and serenity in places. 

I found them often in ancient places.

Such a place was in a square that the native people called a Durba - in region called Patan - in a city named Kathmandu – in a country called Nepal - that has been reduced now to ruinous heaps.

The earth rumbled then shook with fury.

They tossed buildings and people around until they all fell over.

They crumbled.

There was devastation and great destruction and horror and terror.

It is surreal.

People in Kathmandu and all over Nepal are dazed and confused.

They are shocked and horrified.

Since the mighty earthquake three days ago there have been more than thirty aftershocks.

Many of these have been very powerful.

Hundreds have buildings have fallen over and thousands have cracked

Roads have buckled and twisted.

It is teeming now with rain.

Thousands are dead and tens of thousands more are missing. People are wandering the streets hoping to find their love ones. However hope I can tell you is an exhausting emotion.

It is taxing.

It is terrifying.

When it is combined with fear it is perhaps the most exhausting of all emotions.

It is like juggling eggs in this environment.

The hope resides inside the fragile shell.

A single crack and the despair leaks out.

It spills everywhere.

It stains everything.

I feel like I have lost something very important.

I have.

Lost something really important.

It is a selfish emotion given all that the Nepalese have lost - but I feel broken nevertheless.

I feel helpless and hapless.

I can rebuild all of the schools and I will.

I will make them better than they were but the temples that I so adored - they can never be replaced.

They were built by artisans a thousand years ago

They are forever gone

They are now just rubble and dust.

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