Tufon

Suddenly the world outside the Bahai House turned orange. The sky, the very air itself. It was as though I was wearing orange tinted glasses. The sound of rushing wind sprang up and the doors began to slam.

“Tufon!” One of them shouted at me. I knew that word – Storm. It was a dust storm.

Outside the air was thick. I stepped outside for a moment, holding my dupatta in front of my mouth and nose. My glasses held off some of the dust but I was still wiping my eyes for ten minutes afterwards. I came in to find my computer covered in a thin layer of sand.

After the dust storm there was a heavy rainfall, which was very pleasant. Unfortunately in India it seems that whenever the weather does something unpredictable there is a price to pay. I think around ninety people died, mostly from having their houses fall on them.

All the weather lately has been unseasonable. We’ve had several storms and rainfalls and the temperature has gotten very lovely. The cool wind from all the storms we’ve been having wafts into our room at night in a way that should be taken as the hallmark of all wafting.