The day dawned like any other day. The sun shone brightly though I continued to snuggle in my quilt savouring my hot cuppa while my six-year old son watched Cartoon Network on his Republic Day holiday. And since I am quite used to the bed shaking violently when he imitates the pranks of his favourite toons, the violent shaking of the bed this morning too was accompanied by my loud rebuke, "Dhruv, behave yourself!" Only this time round, the bed did not stop shaking even after the admonition. It was only then that it dawned on me that something was drastically wrong.

Throwing off my quilt and lethargy, I grabbed my son in my arms and rushed out of the house into the front lawn even as doors in adjacent houses too burst open and people rushed out in utter surprise, disbelief and panic. The earth continued to heave as if it would split open while the trees around swayed dizzily creating a momentary storm as well. Amidst the chaos only one thing registered. My sahayak declaring that Pak had finally lobbed the nuclear bomb on India on Republic Day, as threatened.

An aeon later, or was it only a minute, the heaving became milder and then as suddenly as it had begun, the earth stopped quaking. The reality hit us then - we had witnessed probably the severest earthquake ever in our lives.

Going back into my house, I discovered several small curios, loveingly collected over the years, had fallen and broken. I mentally wrote them of as small losses, still not realising the magnitude of the ordeal that I had witnessed.

It was only when I picked up the phone half an hour later to inform my loved ones of what had transpired that I realised that communication links had snapped. While the dial tone was intact, I could not even make local calls leave alone STDs. A while later, when I received a call from my family members in Delhi and Mumbai, I realised that the earthquake had been widespread. But still the import of what I had witnessed did not sink in totally.

It was only when cable and electricity connections were restored some two hours later in the Cantonment where I stay (they swing into action much faster than the crowds on civvy street) that I tuned onto my favourite TV news channel. And my blood ran cold when I realised that what Ahmedabad had witnessed was probably the worst earthquake to have hit independent India in the past 50 years and that the epicentre had been the quaint small city of Bhuj where my husband is currently posted. I can only recall feeling weak with relief on two accounts - one, that we had emerged unscathed and two, that my husband was mercifully not in Bhuj but in Rajasthan for some major army exercise.

Slowly, as the day passed reports started pouring in - the new Ahmedabad, where at least 90 designer multi-storeyed buildings had crumpled like a pack of cards. A survey of the worst affected parts earlier today as also the blood-curdling visuals which have been flashing on the boob tube for a major part of yesterday and today have confirmed my worst fears. Yes, the Paris of Ahmedabad has been reduced to a mountain of rubble.

There's hardly any traffic on the roads today since most of the people are huddled around what's left of their houses in groups which share a common grief and a common colossal loss. Nothing unites and binds people better than this. And today Ahmedabad, generally known as one of the most communally volatile cities, which can be ignited into large scale riots at the drop of a hat, is a shining example of communal amity in the face of sorrow.

In areas where houses have collapsed, large crowds have spent the night in the open huddled over small bonfires, consoling the bereaved families and taking stock of their personal losses even as the womenfolk rustle up meals on huge pans in the open. Food and consolation is being doled out generously. From Bhuj, the reports pouring in are not much different as are those pouring in from other parts of the state. Even as the death toll is mounting - it is being apprehended that there may be 14,000 dead in the final tally though at present the death count hovers around 8,000 - the resilient Gujaratis are trying to put back the pieces of their lives.

Help has started pouring in but it is finally their inherent strengths which they will finally have to draw upon to get over the colossal losses of dear ones and property. While the Gujarat quake may finally be viewed as just a statistic years from now and be listed among the worst quakes of the millennium, only the people who have witnessed it will remember it till as long as they live. As a minute when nature displayed its wrath as only it can - leaving in its wake tragic tales which will be told to future generations.