KD Stories With 'Jagga' Title 'A River Bank'

You can't sleep at night with a river bank
behind you, so you stay up
at night, half praying and half expecting a
flood, expecting the worst
but still hoping for the best, the neighbors
nearest to you have
moved, but you who is crippled with poverty,
you who have only your
life, you that have been through all the colors
of darkness, where do
you move to? Nowhere, the answer always
stare back at you just like a
photograph of a ten years old you that hung
on the wall in your room,
You didn't know about the flood issue until
last few weeks, when
neighbors start telling you about the atrocities
it has dealt them,
but its all like medicine after sickness, of what
use is a knowledge
if it can't save you? It is as useless as the
letter P in the word
It has being a very cold Saturday and kaeco
were gracious with light
despite the heavy rain that fell throughout that
day, but fear of an
impending flood won't even let you enjoy the
light, music seems like
noise, so you sat there, doing nothing, with
sleep in your eyes, fear
in your heart and hunger in your stomach, oh
you were too afraid since
morning to even think of food, but you were
hungry more out of not
having what to eat than not wanting to eat,
things are hard for
everybody all right so you don't even want to
get into that now...
The flood started around 3am , but to be
honest, it started around
12am, it was out of sheer hope that you and
others just like you who
don't have any where else to go have waited,
hoping by some twist of
fate, that the flood wouldn't advanced, but
your hopes diminished with
every tick of the clock, the flood crept slowly,
an impending disaster
with a sense of humour, it took its time
advancing, like its saying
"what's the rush"? it covered the the concrete
slabs that serves as
bridge to the house, but hope is not the
absence of doubt, just the
overcoming of it, but there are limits to
everything you can overcome
and this seems to be one of those , so by 3am
you pack your already
arranged properties and join a procession of
people with bags on their
heads, their faces gloomy and despondent,
beaten first by life and now
derived of shelter by the flood, it seems karma
is paying you back for
a sin long forgotten, steadily fighting through
the water that is
already reaching their knees, 

the way you
all file out with an
unspoken accord reminded you of a word,
You turn momentarily to look at the houses
that were about to be raped
by brown and salty water for the countless number
of time, even in the
dimly lit night, you can still make out the array
of old houses and
their broken walls, though mostly patched in
several places, they still
looked worn out from many of such flood,
turning back to the long
procession of people, you sigh, " a broken home
for a broken people".

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