Krishnan's Personal Website

It all began with the cyclone Fengal. When the cyclone was announced, we braced ourselves for impact, but nothing could prepare me for the devastation it would leave behind. The rains poured relentlessly, and within hours, the sewage system got overwhelmed and sewage water started creeping into my home. We decided to relocate to my uncle’s house next door for the night and return in the morning once things get better. 

From the closed windows of my uncle’s bedroom I could hear the sound of the torrential rain outside.  The next morning I woke up at 6 am and opened the door to go home. My assumption up until that point was that there would be ankle deep water which like in the past would recede in a matter of hours. But to my astonishment I saw the street filled with neck deep water. 

I quickly ran to the first floor balcony to assess the actual damage and my curiosity faded in a jiffy when I noticed my house fully flooded. I quickly took a photo of the situation from my wife’s phone as mine was already dead. 

 

Though the intensity of the rain had dropped, it didn’t stop. By now it has been two days without electricity. There was nothing I could do other than wait for the rain to stop and hope that the water recedes. 

In the next 3 to 4 hours the rain stopped and the level of water came down from neck deep to hip deep. This is when I told my wife and stepped out to check our house. The water on the streets was dirty and cold. I slowly walked towards my house. The gate was half submerged so I had to apply some strength to open it. At this point the water level inside my house was knee deep. 

As I waded through the water, trying to salvage whatever I could, I realized how helpless I truly was. The floodwaters didn’t just take my belongings; they took my sense of security. The next five days were grueling. Cleaning the house, throwing away soaked and ruined items, and watching my home grow emptier by the hour felt like an endless punishment. The only things spared were my TV and AC, which hung high on the walls, untouched by the water's wrath. Everything else—mattresses, pillows, clothes, furniture, appliances, and even the kitchen utensils that held memories of shared meals—was destroyed.

The house, once a place of comfort and warmth, now feels barren and cold. Every corner echoes with the loss of what once was. Financially, this is a blow I never imagined facing. Emotionally, it feels like a storm continues to rage inside me even though the skies outside have cleared.

After returning to my uncle’s house I told my wife what we have actually lost. I could see pain and uncertainty on her face. She was totally clueless on how we might ever pull ourselves out of this. She reiterated that our daughter will be finishing school in the next two years so we were planning to save as much as possible so that we could send her to a good medical school. Yes she wants to become a doctor. This unexpected financial loss means that we will have to spend money in rebuilding our life which she feared might affect our ability to pay her college tuition. 

What I’ve Lost

It’s hard to articulate the sheer scope of the damage. Imagine waking up one day to find your refrigerator, washing machine, power backup generator, and even your kitchen utensils rendered useless. The mattresses and pillows that once provided comfort are gone, along with every piece of clothing that gave me a sense of self-expression. My home office, where I worked tirelessly to build my dreams, is now a soggy memory. It’s a strange and painful feeling to throw away items that once meant so much, reduced to trash by the unyielding water.

But the most profound loss isn’t physical. It’s the feeling of stability, the sense of home. A home is more than walls and a roof; it’s where memories are made, where laughter echoes, and where you feel safe. That sense of safety has been washed away.

What I’ve gained: A new perspective

In the midst of the chaos, I’ve found something unexpected, a deeper understanding of what truly matters. The flood stripped away everything external, forcing me to confront my inner self. I’ve realized that while material possessions can be lost, the will to fight, to survive, and to rebuild is something no storm can take away.

Amidst the despair, a thought struck me, a realization that this could be the beginning of a new chapter. If my life has been reduced to a blank slate, then perhaps it’s an opportunity to rebuild it, brick by brick, stronger than before. This isn’t just about buying new furniture or appliances; it’s about reconstructing my life, redefining my purpose, and inspiring others who might be facing their own storms.

This realization has sparked a fire within me. It’s a reminder that life isn’t about avoiding the storms but learning to dance in the rain. I’ve decided to share this journey not just to document my recovery but to show others that starting from scratch is possible. It’s not easy, and it’s not quick, but it is worth it.

The first steps forward

Starting over feels overwhelming, but every journey begins with a single step. My first steps are small but deliberate. I’ve made a list of immediate needs—basic furniture, a few appliances, and essentials like clothes and kitchen items. I’m reaching out to friends and family for support, both emotional and financial, while also exploring ways to budget and rebuild wisely.

I’ve also started planning how to reframe my life goals. This blog is a part of that plan. Sharing my experiences, connecting with others, and documenting every step of the way will not only keep me accountable but also, I hope, inspire someone out there who might feel as lost as I do right now.

Why am I sharing this?

I know I’m not alone in facing adversity. Disasters, both natural and personal, strike all of us in different ways. Whether it’s a cyclone, a financial crisis, or an emotional storm, the pain of starting over is universal. My hope is that this blog becomes a source of strength for anyone who feels like they’ve hit rock bottom.

I want to show that it’s okay to feel lost, to cry, to grieve for what’s gone. But it’s equally important to rise, to fight, and to rebuild. Life isn’t about the things we lose; it’s about the strength we gain in the process of finding ourselves again.

This blog marks the beginning of my journey, not as a victim of Fengal but as a survivor determined to rise above it. I want to share everything, the challenges, the victories, and the lessons I learn along the way. If you’re reading this, know that it’s not just my story; it’s a story of resilience, of finding strength when it feels like you have none left.

Let’s rebuild, one day at a time, together.