Fire
Crisis changes people. Mothers suddenly possess inhuman
strength when they see their children stuck under cars. Acrophobes overcome their fear of
heights to save loved ones. Procrastinators finish their 8000 word research
papers in a single night, something that
seemed so utterly impossible for the last 2 months. In the words of Jeannette
Walls, “Sometimes you need a little crisis to get your adrenaline flowing and
realize your true potential.” I only
realized the truth of this statement when I had to face a crisis situation of
my own.
It was just another Tuesday morning in my house. My parents
left for work at 7:45 a.m., and my brothers grudgingly made their way to school, with only
minutes to spare before class started. The newspaper arrived at 8:12, with the
newspaper boy wearing his usual guilt-ridden look. Hell would freeze over
before he could deliver the paper on time. My grandmother grumbled about giving
the boy an earful one of these days , as usual, while I read her the newspaper
over breakfast. From 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., the house consisted of me, my
90-year-old grandmother and our house help, Shilpi.
Unlike the typical Tuesday, I had a Chemistry extra class in
an hour. I was in my room debating whether I should attend the class or not
when I caught the smell of smoke in my room. Our house was well over 50 years
old and was surrounded by trees in all sides, thanks to my mother and her love
for gardening. The gardener was instructed to gather the fallen leaves and burn
them to make fertilizer as well as to clean up the place. Thinking that to be
the case, I continued pondering over my problem. About 10 minutes had passed
when I realized that the smell of smoke not only persisted, but was growing
stronger. I looked down the window and saw nothing. Confused, I went to the
next room to see if I could get a better view from there. Entering the room,
the first thing I noticed was that the smell was much stronger here. The second
thing I noticed was how the floor felt warmer than usual. This was bad. I
peered down the window to see smoke rising, not from the garden, but from a
cracked window in the floor below us. I rushed to Shilpi’s room, since her room
was directly above the room from which I saw smoke rising.
As I had suspected, it was much, much worse in her room. The
black smoke poured in through the windows, causing my eyes to water. I started
coughing as I left the room and found that the other rooms had also been
shrouded with smoke. I found a panic-stricken Shilpi and told her to stay
with my grandmother while I went downstairs to see what was happening.
Downstairs, a lot of people had already gathered. The door
to the flat was locked, and intensely black, choking smoke viciously spewed from
underneath it. The apartment had been empty for a long time and was currently being used a storage
space. The men were busy throwing buckets of water underneath the door in an
attempt to put out the fire. I realized that these men had no idea what they
were doing, and after watching them do their work for a while longer, I
mustered up the courage to ask if any of them had informed the Fire Service.
Confused eyes looked back at me in response.
I realized that we were grave danger, and relying upon these
men was pointless. So I sprinted back upstairs and called the Fire Service.
They informed me that they’ll be there in about 15 minutes. I then called up my
neighbours to inform them of the crisis. I made arrangements for us to stay
with our neighbour, who also lived on the first floor, which was very useful
since it would be very difficult for my grandmother to walk upstairs. Then I
prepared to take my grandmother downstairs, which, at her age, was a huge feat.
It usually took her around 20 minutes, but that day, maybe due to her survival
instinct kicking in or from Shipi and me assisting her, she crossed the 4
flights of stairs in about 5 minutes. While my neighbour was helping my
grandmother settle into his house, I went back to our house, which was shrouded in the menacing
smoke, and locked up all our valuables. On
my way down, I saw the group of men still looking for the Fire Service’s
number.
The Fire Service arrived soon after.
The entire building was evacuated, and after an hour or so, the fire
was brought under control and we were allowed back inside. I asked one of the
fire fighters to explain what happened. He said that the fire started when an
old fuse had failed and the wire caught wire. The fire from the wire started
burning all the books that were stored there, and eventually spread out. We
were lucky that the fire was stopped before it could spread through the
electric lines, for if that had happened, all the houses in the area would have
caught on fire. Thankfully, the damage was limited to the second floor. Our
home and the one below it hadn’t suffered any damage.
When my parents arrived, they were baffled at how the crisis
had been handled by their lazy, phone-crazy teenage daughter. I couldn’t blame
them. Even in my wildest imagination I hadn’t seen myself as a girl capable of
taking control of her life and others’. I thought of myself as the “damsel in
distress”, always waiting to be rescued by a knight in shining armour. I had
shocked myself that day. I realized how responsible and independent I could be.
Had that fire not started, maybe I would still remain that damsel in distress;
forever dependent on someone else. And that is why I believe that it is in
times of crisis we truly understand what we are capable of.
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