Barely 30 minutes before the fire engulfed the children, the Class V Tamil teacher at the Sri Krishna School gave a ‘‘word-splitting’’ test to her students. ‘‘Split the word, ‘Separation’’’ she had written on the blackboard.
That word still remains on the blackboard even now. But most of her students are gone.
Their charred notebooks lie scattered across the slushy, dark floor. As the tragedy occurred before lunchtime, their favourite meal packed in tiffin boxes also lie burnt: idlis, dosas, chutney and curd rice, all charred black. As if in mourning—like the entire temple town of Kumbakonam today.
Tearful crowds greet visitors to the town from even a mile away.
All shops are shut, all vehicles passing through plastered with ‘‘condolence messages.’’ Twelve years ago—in the same Mahamaham year—over 50 people had died in this town in a stampede when pilgrims had come for the once-in-12-years holy bath at the Kumbakonam tank in 1992. Jayalalithaa, who was the Chief Minister then too, had come to Kumbakonam for the holy dip. This March, when the Mahamaham festival took place, she kept off. The event passed off peacefully and the town heaved a sigh of relief.But that barely lasted four months. Another tragedy and the town is in mourning again.