The wind was silently whispering. Its subtleness sounded as sweet as Chandor’s wife’s melodious voice. But she was yet to return from her mother’s house. The only mode which would ferry her across the Hooghly to Calcutta was stopped from operating – harsh, ferocious winds and persistent rain had already wiped away dwellings on the western banks of the great river. Cyclone and heavier rain was forecast. Boats and water carriers were snapped; boatmen feared they could never resume their duties and provide bread to their families.