It was morning, and the clocked ticked slowly, taking almost forever to turn 8. I walked to the kitchen to heat some milk for my son. He wasn’t a fan breakfast, and only like to drink warm milk with a pinch of sugar. I poured milk into a pot and let it to boil. Looking outside the window I glared in the sky. All I saw was palm trees, and a clear blue sky. I squinted and fixed my eyes on a black cloud that I saw from far. It was growing, getting bigger and bigger as if it was reaching out to touch me.

We lived only 7 kilometres from the sea, in a town called puthukudiyurrippu located in the northern province of srilanka which was apart of the mulaithivu district. I stretched my neck and I tried to get a clear look. I could sense a storm, and pulled my shutters shut. Taking a deep breath I went back to wake up my son, and give my husbands morning tea.

My husband was sitting on the front porch reading the morning paper. I brought him his tea in a tumbler and placed it next to him. Walking back into the house, I went to the kitchen. Grabbing my sons plastic mug I poured in the warm milk from the milk pot. It was hot, and I could see some steam coming out. I blew gently as I tried to cool off the milk and then carried it to his room.

There he lay, fast asleep curled in his blanket. His cheeks shone as the suns rays touched his face through the window. I picked him up in my arms and pulled his head close to my chest and whispered in his ears, telling him that I brought him his milk. “Akash, chellam amma paal konduvanthurukuren.” Akash was my only child. He was only 2 years old. He was very active and loved to follow his father wherever he went.

Akash opened his eyes and murmured , “appa?”. He loved his father and looked for him every time he wakes up. I smiled at him and told him he can see his father once he drinks his milk. He nodded and got up to drink his milk.

After drinking his milk, he snuggled in my lap, stretching his arms out to hug me tight as he brushed his face against my dress.
Vasantha— vasantha!! My husband called from outside.
I picked up Akash and walked towards my husband.

“Inga vaa vasantha” he said and told me to look at some far ahead. He pointed to the sky, and told me to look at the black faded cloud that I saw in the morning. Looking at me, he asked what I thought of it. We both stared at it, it was indeed getting bigger. Was it a storm? A thunder cloud? No. It was the ocean. The waters of the sea lifted off the sea bed and made waves that erupted on to earth. Tsunami is what it was called.

Within seconds we were hit by the first waves. I screamed as my husband and I tried to run out of our house with our son. My husband quickly took my son from my hands and held on to him. With his other hand he grasped my wrist tightly and yanked me closer to him. But before we could run a mile, the wave hit the earth and swept us off our feet, ripping me and my husband apart. I screamed loud, shouting for my husband and son. The waters swirled and swirled bringing us higher and higher off the ground. My face was hit by the water making me feel tired and dizzy. I reached out as the water swirled further into the town trying to get a hold of something. Finally I felt the bark of a palm tree and grabbed on to a branch. I pulled myself closer to the tree and wrapped my arms around it. Across from me my husband managed to hold on to my son, and climb on a branch as well. He waved at me, signalling that he was ok. In my mind I was thinking, the worst is over and I just have to wait, but I was wrong. The worst was yet to come. What I feared was now about to happen. Within seconds after my husband waved to me confirming that he and my son was alright, another wave came in and destroyed our family.

The waves went over our heads, it was bigger and faster. It was higher than the tree tops and hit harder than ice. I held on tight to the tree I was holding on to, and screamed. The wave pushed me down and swirled me around. All I can hear is the sound of the waves and I closed my eyes and prayed that my husband and son are safe. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

As the waves went over the tree tops, it scooped up the earth and swept my husband and my son off the tree. The water moved so quickly as my husband attempted to reach out grab on to the nearest branch. As he got his grip and held on firmly on another branch, the wave moved faster, ripping Akash out of his arm. He slipped out faster than a bar of soap in wet hands. He was too quick to catch and the wave was too deadly to reach out into. In just seconds, Akash was swept away with the water. His small fragile body drowned in the wave, and mixed with water. His cries went silent, and his body would have sunk deep into the water hitting the ground and swirling back up. His heart beat would’ve stopped, and his lungs would’ve exploded with water and his body would’ve turned into rag doll, like a dead corpse that just moved as the water swished it’s way through the city. My son was now a dead body, just a particle, nothing big and nothing more than a tiny leaf in a pool of muddy water. The wave pulled back as it drained slowly back into the sea. My husband screamed hitting his head and chest as he yelled Akash’s name. Tears poured down his face. That was the last time we saw Akash.
His little hands, his beautiful smile and his sparking eyes was now just a memory. My baby is now just an image in our mind, that replays as we sleep. My loss was the seas’ gain, for the tsunami was the work of Mother Nature, and my baby was unfortunately a victim.

It is now nine years since his death. We have left our home, our country and our sons death place. I didn’t not get to see his body, or get to touch him. I was not able to burry him or see his ashes. I can never feel his tiny fingers wrap around my thumb. But most of all I will not hear him ever say amma in his sweet voice. The thought gives me chills, and makes weep. Because after all he was the first precious gift in my life. I decided I will carry him with me, in my heart over seas, to Canada. I have 2 children now. A daughter who was born three years after my sons death, and now a son. We live in Toronto, as a family. But no matter what happens, my Akash will still remain in my heart. And as I sleep I see him in my dreams, as I walk towards the room as he sleeps in peace waiting for me to feed him his milk.