Essays

I was on my way back home on my motorcycle after exercising in a nearby park when I saw thick black smoke billowing upwards at some distance from me- It was twilight time and the dirty black smoke rising against a brilliant red western sky presented quite a spectacle. I knew that a fire was raging and judging by the colour and the fury of smoke I reasoned that it was probably caused by the burning of rubber and diesel oil.

I continued home and I noticed that the smoke was getting closer. The column of black smoke was both horrifying and ominous- Then as I approached a bend along the road, I saw the fire. The glow of fifty foot flames shooting upwards was blinding. I blinked my eyes to let it adjust to the sudden brightness. After a while I could see that a row of shops were on fire. A tyre shop, a welding and a painting shop and two car repair shops were right in the middle of the blaze. I knew these shops well because they were only a few hundred yards away from my house, fortunately on the other side of the road.

All traffic along the road beside the fire came to a halt. A policeman directed me to a side-road that led to a housing estate opposite the burning shops. I shifted into the side-road and stopped to watch the fire.

The heat was so intense that the firemen could not even approach the fire—much less try to extinguish it. I could see two firemen crouched behind their fire-engines about fifty yards from the burning shops. They were desperately directing their jet of water towards a row of shop-houses just next to the fire. 1 could see that they were trying to keep the fire from spreading by keeping the neighbouring houses wet.

Then came a series of explosions that rocked the neighbourhood. The oxygen and acetylene cylinders used for welding burst open spectacularly sending trails of sparks that pierced the now dark sky. The shower of sparks that followed every deafening explosion was greeted by handclapping and shouting from a group of young boys near me. I could understand how they felt. This display of glowing red sparks would put the best Diwali fireworks to shame.

The fire raged unabated for almost an hour. The whole shop full of tyres was the perfect fuel. Coupled with grease and diesel from the other shops, the fare unit was finding it difficult to contain the blaze. Within few minutes, a number of other fire units arrived and the fire was put to control.

As the fire progressing progressively developed, all the walls came tumbling down revealing three of four cars in one of the shops. They were ablazed like the paper cars that the Chinese burn for their dead ancestors. I wondered what the superstitious Chinese are going to say about this burning of real cars Gradually, the fire became less intense as the fuel burned. The firemen turned their attention to the burning shops. I could see five or six streams of silvery water arching pathetically into the fire. However, after fifteen minutes or so, the fire was visibly reduced in intensity. Flames still licked hungrily at various places in the burnt-out hulk of once well-stocked shops.

Without the glow of the fire, darkness reigned. Silently, the onlookers disappeared from the scene. I could just make out the silhouettes of the fireman busy at their tasks. Elsewhere I could see groups of people hurrying back to their shop-houses. How fortunate they had been! They certainly had had a close call. As there was nothing left to see or do, 1 started my motorcycle and waded my way through the heavy traffic towards home.