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was  as  if  hell  had  scored  the   using  the  hashtag  #HelpBengal   where  they  did  sh  farming.  It   water from the nearly Bay of Bengal.

 winning  goal.  Not  only  were   and #Amphan. Quite surprisingly,
           was the main livelihood of the                       Somehow. both these stories struck a
 people's  homes  gutted,  they  had   none of the national news media
           family. Whatever happened, the                       chord.  Somewhere,  there  was  a
 nowhere to go – there was no food   were talking about the carcass of   family never ever ran out of food   distant  link. The gold sh in the bowl

 and shelter for them. Hundreds of   Bengal – the whole world was too
           because the pond had hundreds                        had  died  of  overeating,  and  the
 people became homeless in a single   busy  discussing  the  effects  of
           of  sh  of  different  types.  The                   hundreds  of  dead  sh  in  the  pond
 night  of  nature's  fury.  They  had   COVID. Nothing at all seemed to be   pond was more precious to them   took away with it the food of a family.

 named the cyclone AMPHAN.  as important. Not even non COVID
           that  anything  else  they  had.                     Life is lled with dichotomy; yet. it is
 deaths.
           They didn't have much. But they                      entwined in its web of similarity - in
 In this scenario, I decided to call my   had the pond. She recounted her   its unique stories.

 domestic  help  (her  name  was   After  two  days  I  received  a  call
           ordeal on the night of the storm.
 Pushpa)  and  ask  about  her   from  Pushpa.  She  was  weeping
           The family had to escape from
 wellbeing.  She  had  been  working   uncontrollably over the phone. At   the house as it was breaking and

 with us in Mumbai for many years   rst, I though her family had not   took refuge in the shelter of the

 and  had  recently  retired  to  her   survived #Amphan. After a while
           high school. The rst thing that
 native  place  in  the  Sundarbans.  I   w h e n   s h e   r e g a i n e d   h e r   Pushpa  had  done  the  morning

 was  concerned  of  her  family's   composure, she told me that her   after  was  to  rush  to  the  pond.

 safety.  It  was  difficult  to  get   family was safe. Their house was
           The water in the pond was not
 through to her whole day as phone   own away by the storm and they
           visible. The surface was covered
 lines were down and the whole of   were  staying  at  a  high  school.   with oating sh.

 Bengal was out of mobile coverage   Hundreds of people, all putting up
 due  to  damaged  mobile  towers.   in whatever places were left intact
           I closed my eyes. On one hand
 After trying for a while, I gave up   or  partially  intact.  They  were   there  was  this  single  gold  sh
 and  hoped  that  I  could  get  some   grieving  for  the  loss  of  their
           oating in my bowl. And on the
 news  shortly.  I  became  busy  in   livelihood.  Everyone  had  their
           other  I  imagined  the  pond.
 Mumbai and the next two days were   own  story  to  tell.  I  offered  her   Quintals  and  quintals  of  dead

 spent in doing whatever we could to   money.  She  said  she  needed
           sh, oating on   the surface of
 help people in need in Bengal and   supplies not money. And then she
           the  water  which  had  got
 getting the message of their plight   told me what was bothering her   contaminated  with  the  salt

 to the rest of the country. We were   the most. The family had a pond
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