'I don't know how we made it': The mountain of despair that lingers in Wayanad

It's hard to grasp the extent of the devastation. Only a small portion of the mountains was needed to destroy entire settlements.

An unrecognised body is being buried at Puthumala. Express | E Gokul

Shyamala, numb with grief, is gazing from the relief camp towards the mountains.

"I lost my granddaughter... She was eight. Four days after the landslide, my son-in-law's body was found, but there are still two more of our children to be found. Even if we find their bodies, I doubt we will be able to recognise them. Thinking of that breaks my heart," she says.

The usually scenic landscape of Wayanad appears desolate. The mountains no longer sing of the region's beauty but stand tall, heartless overlooking the disaster it had brought to its people with the twin landslides.

The fury unleashed by the July 30 rains wiped out Mundakkai and Chooralmala, leaving no trace of the towns that once existed. Relief camps are filled with people from broken families.

Hundreds lost their dreams, belongings and lives in the massive heaps of mud and debris that engulfed their homes and livelihoods. No amount of environmental studies or promises of reconstruction can console them.

The Dr APJ Abdul Kalam Community Hall in Meppadi became a place of sorrow, holding the bodies and body parts recovered from the landslide, most of which remained unidentified. The walls were lined with photographs of the disfigured bodies, each marked with a body number and postmortem details. The haunting images depicted faces of the lost -- some with bulging eyes, mud-encrusted faces and visible ornaments.

"It took six days to identify the first body," said Jayesh, a volunteer.

Suhara, a member of the Haritha Karma Sena and a resident of Chooralmala, was involved in the identification process. "Many of the people brought here were my neighbours or friends, which made it slightly easier for me to identify them," she said.

A week after the massive landslides, the district administration organised a mass burial for the unclaimed victims. A prayer service from all religions was held before the burial.

Most of the victims were estate workers and their families. The tea plantations where they had built their lives now bear silent witness to their buried remains in Puthumala.

Ayshakutty (70) from Nellimunda, about 10 kilometres from Chooralmala, arrived at the relief camp at Government Higher Secondary School, Meppadi, with a heavy heart. She sought information about her family. She had not heard from them since the landslide. Unable to walk, she was brought to the camp in an autorickshaw, where her relatives gathered to provide details.

Tears rolling down her cheeks, she said, "We were away, and I don’t know who all survived."

Thirty people from nine families in her area were rescued, but five remain missing and one child's body was found.

Noufal, who had returned from Dubai four days ago, faces an even deeper tragedy. Although his wife Hanshitha and their five-year-old son Aadi survived, all 22 members of his extended family are missing.

"I cancelled my visa and came back. We have nothing here. My family and friends are all gone. All 22 of them were staying at our ancestral house when it was swept away," Noufal said, his voice heavy with grief.

At St. Joseph’s Girls HSS, Jayamma, one of the survivors, struggles with sleepless nights and an uncertain future.

Jayamma, her husband Muthan and their two sons and daughter survived the night of the landslide. They were jolted awake around 1 am by the thunderous roar of falling boulders and trees. Desperate for safety, they fled to a nearby estate manager's house perched atop a tea plantation and waited until dawn. By morning, the town they once knew had been reduced to ruins.

Schools also became temporary shelters for migrant labourers from various states after the disaster. Although officials said everyone was saved, some have not been seen since.

"All our families are safe, though four of our villagers went missing and one body was found. Bijinesh Paswan, Sadhu Paswan and Ranjeet Paswan are still missing, while Phoolkumari's body has been found," said Dharmendar from Bihar.

Some survivors are left with haunting memories.

"As we stepped out to see what the noise was about at 2 am, three bodies had washed up to our doorstep. We went upstairs hoping to survive. I don't know how we made it. Three-storey houses are now in ruins. Our neighbours -- a father, mother and three kids -- were lost. The kids were trying to break a window to escape, but they couldn't. I felt so helpless. I vividly remember those kids," said a tearful Aayisha, a survivor.

The victims not only lost their loved ones but also many animals that had lived with them through it all. While authorities continued rescue operations to find missing persons, organisations like Humane Society International (HSI) India and Arrow worked diligently to provide relief to animals affected by the disaster.

The rescue operations involved searching affected areas, gathering information from camp inmates, and collaborating with the NDRF, SDRF and army personnel. They also monitored news channels to track the locations of animals.

The Number 13 Bridge, which was the only way for Chooralmala and Attamala residents, left the latter stranded when it was destroyed. People living in government-built houses (padi) in Attamala ran to a common point when the landslide hit and were later moved to camps when rescue operations began. Many were killed, but many survived.

"I came to feed my cat at our house from the relief camp. The government jeeps had dropped us here," said Rehana, a native of Attamala.

From Attamala, it looked as if the clouds had descended upon the town. The mountains were shrouded in mist, almost touching the sky. It's hard to grasp the extent of the devastation. Only a small portion of these mountains were needed to destroy entire settlements.

Forest officials ensured that the tribal community in a colony in Attamala received essentials. They had refused to come down to the camps after the landslide.

"They are not very comfortable around others. They go into the forests when outsiders arrive. But we have a bond now. They know me and we provide them with essentials," said K Ashif, Kalpetta forest range officer.

The community's harmony when the state runs into difficulties is highly praised. In the face of such a tragic event, people extended abundant help, volunteering to work in the disaster-stricken areas. Groups initiated efforts to support the needy and love poured in from across the country in the form of needed goods and financial assistance to the CMDRF.

Initiatives like 'Kuttiyidam' helped children find relief in the camps. Telemanass and the psychosocial team provided counselling to survivors.

"They are all uncertain about the future. Venting out helps to an extent. Psychologists, psychiatrists, counsellors and social workers are here to support them," said a social worker.

For rehabilitation, the government needs to find temporary housing, preferably in Wayanad, for 2,225 people from 648 families.

Descending the mountain pass of Thamarassery, one feels a knot in the throat, unable to find words to describe the mountain of despair witnessed uphill. No words could ever fully capture the voices of the hundreds who fell silent after the disaster.