Its twilight and I am sitting at home in Bangalore, just finishing my story on Dhanushkodi, the town that was swallowed by a storm surge in December 1964. An entire train with more than 100 passengers who approached the station were engulfed and there was not a single survivor. The town which was the last of India, shared a land border with Srilanka ,used to ferry passengers by a boat service there. As I sat here, looking through my photographs and videos, I felt a bit heavy in the heart reliving my experiences there. Dhanushkodi is beautiful, but is melancholic and tragic. And I am remembering the journey from Rameshwaram to Dhanushkodi.
I went there last December after a spell of heavy rains and we drove along the edge of the waters in a marshland. The sea was swollen and the roads had disappeared. There was no beach or a shore..just water and we had to get on to a truck to go to the illfated town. Driving along the swamps, I could imagine what 1964 would have been like.