Sitting on the roof of my grandparent’s house, surrounded by dunes, I complain to God and think a curse has been cast upon us.
It’s been four days. Four days since electricity has been cut off from this damned village!
First came the sandstorm. It was not a major one, I’ve seen worse. But the destruction it caused was more than anyone can imagine.
Three electric poles down.
The first day was spent emptying the battery of the mobile phones of all of the house members. There was nothing else to do. Kids to adults, everyone had their eyes boring down into their phones.
Without electricity, the motor wasn’t able to suction water into overhead tanks. Consequently, my maternal uncle was given the task of fetching pails of water from the underground water hoarding.
That sounds like something Jack and Jill would love to do. But not him. Not us.
On the second day, when the phones no longer had an ounce of charge left, the family members talked to each other, suffering with each other to be more precise.
Life without a mobile phone!! Isn’t it the worst thing that could happen to a teen?
I couldn’t think of any other possible way of passing time. When I had my cell, time didn’t seem like such a burden. This place never appeared so dull and meaningless.
All I could think of, as I pass time by looking at the clock, was when this duration of torture would end. I called my dad and asked him to take me away from there. He laughed it off.
He wouldn’t understand what we are going through.
In the ever-increasing heat of Indian summer, let alone ACs, we weren’t even having access to fans.
Having always lived my life in big cities, in comfortable apartments or bungalows, it was getting hard for me to survive.
But I had to prove I’m not a snob, so I never complained. When on the other hand, my cousin sister wailed and whined and did whatnot. I knew it was useless. What good could it do?
The adults were busy preparing for the function that was to take place on the following full moon. But we kids? We had absolutely nothing to do.
My cousin sister and I have never been soul sisters. We have a really formal relationship. Our thought processes are way too different.
My cousin brothers are way too young. One four and the other ten. So, not a great bonding there either.
And I thought, what a mess this family is. How come I never noticed this before?
My cousin sister is sitting opposite me. We talk about random things, without any head or toe. It’s not long before the conversation dies down. Again.
We both relish the cool evening winds after the hot afternoon we just faced.
And I look at her face. I notice things I never had before. Like, how my little cousin has grown taller than me. Her curly, untamed hair.
She says, “Didi, you’ve got such pretty eyes.”
I smile. At that moment, I realized our relationship has been all wrong.
I point at the blood-red sun, just above the impeccably yellow dunes. “When was the last time we went there?” I ask.
“Probably when we were ten.” She answers. I don’t know, but I laugh. She joins me too.
Then I grab her hand. “Let’s go.”
And we soar through the gates of the big house. Out of the village and into the desert. Far enough to forget about what we left behind, close enough to trace our way back.
We run and run, holding hands like we are ten instead of teenagers.
“Why didn’t we do this before?” She asks rhetorically, in between her laugh.
I smile again. “It isn’t a curse,” I mumble.
“What?” She asks again.
I shake my head.
The rest of the day is spent in the sand. Getting dirty, having fun. We go back home when twilight drops her curtain and pins it with a star.
The next day, when I go upstairs to wake her up, the fan starts rotating. We look at each other and then at the fan and then we scream.
I am pretty sure the entire village heard our screams.
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