ज्वाला वायु सीजन १

Chapter 2 - The Gathering Storm

Inside the Shelter

  Samarth sat on the floor, his face buried in his hands, sobbing. "My sister was preparing for her 12th exams… she’s gone!"

Sanju placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "This storm has taken too many lives."

Samarth wiped his tears. "What now?"

Sanju took a deep breath. "We survive."

A stranger, standing near the kitchen, stepped forward. "Ashish Garu. I was a chef at the hotel nearby."

Sanju recognized him. "I’ve seen you there. I go for breakfast on Sundays. I found him and brought him here."

Ashish nodded. "I survived by hiding in the vault. When I came out, the city was empty—people gone. I must have been locked in for two hours."

Sanju's eyes widened. "Venkat struggled to determine the storm’s pattern. What time was our exam?"

Samarth frowned. "Why?"

"Just tell me."

"9:00 AM."

Sanju grabbed a board and started making calculations:

• 10 AM - Storm begins.
• 12:10 PM - Storm ends.
• 3 hours 50 minutes later - Calm period before the next storm.

Samarth stared at him. "So the storm lasts for 2 hours 10 minutes… then after 3 hours 50 minutes, it strikes again?"

Sanju nodded. "It’s a basic pattern, but it makes sense."

They braced themselves as howling winds battered the house. Ashish whispered, "The storm is testing the doors."

Samarth nodded. "It can’t penetrate solid structures."

Then, silence.

Sanju checked the time. "6:10 PM. The next storm will hit at 10 PM."

He snapped a picture of his notes and sent it to Venkat.

A frantic knock at the door startled them. Sanju cautiously opened it. "Neelam?"

Samarth asked, "Who?"

"She’s, our cook."

Neelam stepped inside, clutching her two children. Her face was streaked with tears. "My husband… he never came home. I found his Swiggy uniform lying by his bike—only his phone remained."

Sanju’s heart sank. "I’m sorry, Neelam. He’s gone."

She collapsed onto the chair, sobbing. Sanju handed her water while Ashish comforted the kids with sweets.

At the Prime Minister’s Office, Roy gathered climate experts on a conference call. "Venkat, your assessment?"

Venkat took a deep breath. "Sir, this storm originated in Alaska. We need to check in with teams there—if they’re even alive."

An American official scoffed. "There’s no data confirming an ‘acid storm.’ It sounds like another Bhopal-type disaster localized in India. This is not our concern."

Roy’s jaw tightened. "We have video proof from Bangalore and other affected cities. This storm is escalating—Pune and Mumbai are next! We need global coordination."

His team rushed in. "Sir, the death toll in Pune and Mumbai is rising fast."

Sanju and Samarth ventured outside, clearing debris and pushing vehicles aside to create emergency pathways. They helped people take shelter in Sanju’s house, providing food and water. Samarth gathered groceries, while Ashish and Neelam prepared dinner.

Sanju called Rahul. "We’ve estimated the storm timing."

Rahul chuckled. "Of course, you would—you’re a math genius!"

Venkat reviewed Sanju’s calculations. "He’s right. A 2-hour 10-minute storm, followed by a 3-hour 50-minute gap. Why didn’t I see it sooner?"

That night, 10 PM sharp, the storm struck. Those who listened to Sanju survived. Those who didn’t… vanished.

Checking on his relatives, Sanju found that some survived—many didn’t. Some dismissed it as a "one-day event"—only to be erased by the next wave.

Sanju arrived at Rahul’s house. They watched the news in horror.

Rahul clenched his fists. "The timing predictions work… but people won’t listen."

Mona shook her head. "They think it’s over. It’s not."

Samarth pointed to the screen. "The Maharashtra CM and Mayor’s convoy was attacked on the highway. They’re gone—disintegrated."

Video clips surfaced—leadership had vanished in the storm.

The Prime Minister addressed the nation. "With the Chief Minister gone, we are implementing an emergency representative model for Maharashtra. Volunteers are needed to help restore order."

Sanju muttered, "This will be misunderstood. It’ll create chaos."

The next morning, politicians and local MLAs rushed to claim leadership. They gathered crowds, making campaign videos—ignoring the warnings. Then the storm came.

Sanju jumped onto his jeep, megaphone in hand. "Get inside! The storm is coming!" His warnings were ignored—until the storm erased the new candidates.

The Prime Minister stared at his list of new leaders. Most of them were already gone.

But something had changed. People began listening to Sanju. His efforts in Pune were noticed, and other cities followed suit.

Over the next two days, the death toll stabilized.

Roy sighed in relief but remained tense. "Other states are struggling. We need Pune’s survival model."

Sanju and his team established a routine during ‘free time’:

• One team cleared roads for emergency access.
• Another team made storm timing announcements.
• Rahul supplied food and water to the homeless, using abandoned buildings as shelters.
• A separate team checked houses for survivors.

At the Marriott Hotel, looters took hostages. Sanju and Rahul intervened, driving them away. They later discovered All India Radio (AIR) and used it to broadcast storm warnings nationwide.

Meanwhile, Roy contacted Narendra Goel, a political figure in hiding. "We need a representative for Pune. Meet Sanju."

Narendra nodded. "I’ll reach out to him. But something tells me… this storm isn’t done with us yet."