And God said, let there be light. And there was light.

Alas, the takeaway from Genesis does not hold true any longer, at least in this Amphan-wracked city.

Since Wednesday, when the cyclone raged in the city, our little pocket on the eastern fringes, Survey Park, has been without power, phone connectivity and subsequently water. We grappled with two window frames being wrenched open and flying off to the neighbour’s terrace, scattering glass shards, but worse was in store.

On Wednesday and Thursday, the inverter provided a semblance of normality. We scrimped on the use of water and lights (fans were put on hold to save battery), but on Friday, both ran out.

After a major struggle, we got through to CESC to register a complaint, preserving the docket number as one would a treasure.

On Saturday, the water ran out. Residents managed to get workers to fell trees that were dangling ominously. In 72 hours, neither the Calcutta Municipal Corporation, nor CESC’s tree-cutting unit, had visited the area. But now their job has been done, thanks to the initiative of the residents themselves.

We have two octogenarians at home who are putting on a brave front, but the unending, sleepless nights and tedious wait in dark evenings, matching wits with indefatigable mosquitoes, has begun to take a toll. Even hospitals are no longer a refuge, most of them being Covid-19 zones.

Amphan has effectively put coronavirus in the shade. Without water, even the hand-washing ritual we are now accustomed to has had to be shelved.

We managed to procure drinking water at a price, by word of mouth, since the phones do not work in the area. Internet is a far cry. Another passing vendor helped tote up buckets of water.

In desperation, I called the CESC control room, which miraculously answered. The docket number given, the voice at the other end asked me to be patient a “little longer” — maybe tomorrow the transformers that have been damaged in the area will be repaired, he said. Till now, not a single CESC van has been in sight, neither any proactive move by the local councillor of Ward 109.

Hope has begun to ebb. We are getting quite used to living like campers, minus any picturesque surroundings. Whatever green cover we cherished has been replaced by stubbles of tree trunks, reminiscent of the havoc the cyclone unleashed on this city. Thank you, CESC and CMC, for taking us back half a century.

Sudipta Bhattacharjee is a journalist with The Telegraph