A village buried in mud, destroyed houses, uprooted trees and huge boulders strewn around, the wails of women, the eyes of bewildered kids and the sight of survivors in agony searching for their dear and near among the debris will haunt us for the rest of our lives. The wrath of the river that brought torrents of mud and water, devastating the villages, flattening houses and burying people under thick layers of mud was spine-chilling.
On my arrival at Chooralmala on July 31, a day after the deadly landslides, I found the magnitude of the devastation benumbing. From the devastating flood of 2018 to recurring monsoon tragedies, we have witnessed many calamities, but the one at Chooralmala and Mundakkai was the worst ever witnessed. From the culvert across the road leading to the junction, houses were buried in mud and the road was covered by slush. Following the army men, police and rescue volunteers, we waded through the mud to reach the river bank, where soldiers were busy building the Bailey bridge. Rescue workers were bringing survivors from Mundakkai, crossing the river using a narrow temporary bridge that was swaying dangerously. The dedication of the armed forces and volunteers, who skipped breaks, while searching frantically for survivors was appreciable.
Stepping into the compound of half-buried house, my feet sank in the mud and a rescue worker pulled me out. He said three people were suspected to be buried under the debris. Visiting the relief camp at Meppadi, every survivor had a horrifying story to tell. The first landslide at 1.30 am flooded the valley and a majority of the people who woke up managed to escape.
The second landslide at 4 am, which brought tonnes of mud, boulders and trees, was deadly. The third landslide struck around 5.30 am. Ajesh, an excavator operator, said he had to abandon the machine and run for life as the fourth landslide struck on July 30 morning while he was searching for survivors in the river.
A walk through the river beyond Vellarmala Govt VHSS revealed the ferocity of the debris flow. The river, which was only 20 metres wide, had broadened to 250 metres, swallowing roads and houses on either side. Countless huge boulders came rolling down the hill, flattening houses without leaving a trace. A 3-km stretch of the riverbed was filled with boulders. “The sound of the rolling rocks, which hit each other during the course, and cracking trees made it scary,” said Suresh, a survivor who was searching for his relatives among the rubble.
Walking from Chooralmala to Mundakkai and Punchirimattom, after crossing the river, the devastation was horrifying. It was puzzling how a huge boulder that came rolling down the hills was catapulted up a hill where it damaged a mosque at Mundakkai. Shajil, a rescue worker, said the still eyes of a child, whom he recovered from the debris, were haunting him in sleep. The fear in the eyes of Fida Fathima, who witnessed the death of her neighbour Sirajudeen after a huge tree crashed into the house, remains etched in memory and keeps gnawing.
The four days spent at Chooralmala and Mundakkai helped understand the travails of the underprivileged, whose life is a struggle against odds.
