Waves of change

5

"Have you seen my son? Are you here to search for my son?" she asked me. I had never met her before. She looked helpless, worried, poor, and then there was something else - something bleak. Like she didn't know what to expect, didn't know if she should have hope. She was 55 at least, and looked like she had been walking around vaguely, along every road that led to the beach, the government hospital, the school with temporary tents. 3 years ago (Dec 26th, to be specific), in a tsunami-hit Cuddalore, everyone who was wearing halfway neat clothes must have looked like an "official" to her - from the collector's office or the police. And since I was one of the few "official" looking women around, she stopped me to ask me that question "where's my son? He went out fishing yesterday... I haven't seen him since."....