A night with howling winds

The roaring, howling sound was what stayed with us all night.

Bunkered down with my ailing mother on the top floor of an eight-storey hospital in Khulna, all we could hear was the sheer pandemonium caused by the powerful storm, which started to pound the southwestern district since late afternoon on Wednesday.

By evening, Cyclone Amphan, which meteorologists a few days ago were calling one of the most dangerous storms in decades, was perilously close as it unleashed strong winds, bringing sheets of rain.

The cyclone hammered the windows and glass doors of the nearly empty hospital; the wind roared with full fury, with each renewed howl carrying the threat of destruction of all in its path.

The sound was incredibly loud. Entirely inhuman.

Pieces were flying off. I heard the sound of bits of tin roof being lifted off a house close to the hospital and being buffeted about. A section of timber from a nearby building came off and the branches spread were scattered across the road.

The sound was disconcerting. And the splashes of rain were driving in through the cracks in the sliding windows. For moments, it felt there would be something that would come through the windows.

The lights went out before the storm peaked. It was almost pitch-black outside, making it difficult to see anything around us. But the chaotic chorus of nature's wrath, the roar of the wind and the creaking of the trees, helped us get an idea of the scene outside the hospital window.

As the night wore on, the cyclone swirled onto land. I sensed things, but it was not worse than we were actually imagining. I was waiting for daybreak to see just how bad things are.

First light yesterday revealed some destruction, yet not as severe as I feared. Trees in some parts of the city rolled over. Power lines were down in many areas, corrugated iron wrapped around a number of structures told a dual tale of destruction.

Meanwhile, people walked around with a dazed look.

Yesterday was still windy. I got phone calls from family members, relatives and friends in Satkhira, one of the areas worst hit.

They informed that a huge number of mud huts and trees were uprooted, roads washed away, crops destroyed and embankments broken down, inundating many villages.

They said they were left without power. Since midnight, I could not hear from them because the telephone network was down.

"I have never heard such a violent noise of cyclone in my life. It was worse than the cyclone in 1988. I'll never forget the roaring sound," one of my relatives from Kaliganj upazila in Satkhira told me over phone yesterday noon.