The humans looked like ants drowning in the giant waves from a distance. The trees held on to the soil longer but were uprooted eventually by the brute strength of the ocean waves. Puru looked down and noticed a tiny body floating on a log. He swooped down, piercing through the clouds, and reached the tree trunk. Gathering the tiny body still breathing, he flew up to search for high land that had not submerged yet.

Flying over the scenes of chaos and mayhem, he collected as many humans as he could. The helpless cries of those left behind chased after him, and soon, those agonizing cries were drowned in another tidal wave, relentlessly consuming the land and destroying everything it encountered.

The fear of a natural calamity exceeded the terror of being carried by a demon. The few humans holding tight on to Puru did not mind his fangs or his menacing appearance, despite having never seen one before. Puru zoomed through the air towards the hills on the other side of the valley, which seemed safer now. Once he safely dropped off the survivors, Puru sped back to the flooding valley.

Drifting over the submerged land, he saw ruin and carnage. Piles of human bodies were stuck in the trunks and branches of the trees floating on the water; many more sank to the bottom. Those who had not perished struggled to hold onto anything to keep them afloat, even animal carcasses. The force of the tide had flattened people’s dwellings to the ground. Only the thatched roofs had remained of the collapsed mud huts, floating in the water.

“Help me!” A faint little voice reached Puru. He turned in the direction and saw a little girl, no older than five or six, holding onto a wooden door for her dear life. She was gurgling as she struggled to keep her face above the rough waters. He flashed towards her. Quickly dipping, he collected the child and firmly secured her in his arms. The child shivered, both from cold and panic, but remained silent.

Puru spotted Lord Gajanan at a distance, rescuing an old man, wedged in the branches of a tree. The water level had already reached the topmost part of the tree, where the man was stuck. Moving closer, Puru discovered that the man’s leg was pierced by the sharp edge of a branch. Lord Gajanan hovered over the tree, trying to break off the branch to free the old man.

“Let me.” Puru broke off the proximal end of the branch to free the old man, as Lord Gajanan secured the man.

“Where are you taking them to, Lord Gajanan?”

“Roof of a high temple. But it is about to drown. What about the high land?”

“There is one, not too far.”

The two gods picked up the few humans stranded on the temple roof and made their way towards the high mountains.

Waiting there were ten odd people. Puru looked at all the survivors, around twenty of them, mostly children. Behind him, the devastating wave had cut a swathe through its path. Gaining in force and height, it rapidly drowned the entire region, quickly making its way further inland.

Lord Gajanan began to tend to the injured old man. The man barely spoke, writhing in pain. Blood was still trickling from around the branch that was jutting out of his right leg. If removed, the man would lose whatever blood was left in his weak shrivelled body. Leaving a piece of wood still inside, Lord Gajanan wrapped a piece of his stole tightly above the wound.

Having little knowledge of healing, Puru could not help much and only listened to the old man’s soft cries. With the thick black cloud still hanging over the valley, it was impossible to know how far the sun was up in the sky. Distant screams of terror and death rose from the valley and filled Puru with a sense of hopelessness. He turned back to observe the group. He saw one able-bodied man, young, without any grave injury, and walked up to him.

“Young man, can you take the group to the top of the mountain? This place will be flooded soon.”

The man slowly rose to his feet, shivering as he did so. Fear flashed in his eyes as he glanced at Puru’s fangs.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Then, gather them and head for the top. Do not stop on the way.”

The man readily nodded. Soon, the group of twenty odd survivors headed for the top of the mountain. Lord Gajanan decided to carry the old man on this back and fly him. He promised to meet Puru near the town of Maiyang once he had safely delivered the injured to the top of the mountain.

Rising above the clouds, Puru saw that the sun was setting on the horizon. In a flash, he breezed towards the town and still struggled to match the blistering pace of the tidal wave. There was only one way out. Puru plunged towards the rough waters and touched its surface. He silently moved his lips to utter the necessary words, and in seconds, the point where he felt the water froze. Soon, the entire body of water began to turn into ice. The transformation coursed swiftly through the tidal wave that had now started to stagger and halt in its path. Elated at this momentary success, Puru swiftly flew towards the town to warn the innocent people there, who were still going about their day, oblivious to imminent danger.