One knows for sure now, it ain’t no storm if the Capital is not in the eye of it. So what if several thousands have been rendered homeless? So what if lakhs of farmers have taken a hit — betel nut farms of South 24-Parganas and East Midnapore have been flattened, jute cultivation has been impacted — so what? So what if impeded vegetable supplies will lead to a price explosion in the coming weeks? So what if pisciculture has been grossly affected? So what if almost a week since calamity struck, there has been no power or water supply or Internet connectivity in many parts of the state? So what? On May 20, as Cyclone Amphan closed in on Odisha and West Bengal, for the first time in weeks the coronavirus ceased to be uppermost in the minds of several thousands. And more than a week later, it remains that way. While Odisha thankfully emerged with reportedly mimimal casualty and some damage; in Bengal, a social fabric and economy already worn down by Covid-19 gave away before the aggression of the super-cyclone.
Maun ki baat
After hours of continuous sadistic battering, Amphan had moved on, but not the political powers that have squabbled over Bengal like a pack of wolves these last many months. Now, as the state stood naked and reduced to bare bones and rattling spirits, they continued to play fast and loose with empathy and support. And not just inter-party mind you, there were reports of intra-party bickerings too, at a time when deep truths about mortality should have made one mute if not transformed, full of contrition if not bursting with positive agency. As one learnt, close to a 100 dead, 10 lakh homes gone, 5,500 fallen trees, none of it is apparently tragedy enough to elicit a fitting and prompt response from those who came to power with the promise of keeping vigil on an entire nation.
An aerial view
We live in times when social media is taken more seriously than any political Opposition. This is why, when there was outrage on social media about the lack of achchhe or any kind of din about Bengal post the cyclone, the pundits woke up. They smelt the votes burn; a worrying omen when Assembly elections are less than a year away. The pacifists were pressed into action. First came the supportive tweets. Then, the promises of cooperation. An aerial survey. A handout. A pat on the back. The army was pressed into action three days after Amphan. When the political powers jointly circled the skies over the state one Friday, could they tell from up there the electrocuted bodies floating in waterlogged streets? Would they have tried to count the trees snapped like twigs, wrenched from the earth, roots out et al? Is it possible they might have got at the end of it a whiff of their own politics gone putrid or did it smell like a new opportunity born?
