Far away from the Indian Ocean’s devastated beaches, devotees at a Hindu temple in Flushing, Queens, were grappling yesterday with emotional reverberations set in motion by Sunday’s catastrophe.

“This is a disaster that nobody can understand,” Uma Mysorekar, who runs the Bowne Street temple, said. The temple serves two populations affected by the tsunami, Sri Lankans and Indians from the southern part of the subcontinent.

“We will remember how 2004 ended for the rest of our lives,” she said.

The temple’s relief effort is just taking shape, Ms. Mysorekar said. She planned to offer the building immediately as a haven for the Sri Lankans among the congregation who might have lost relatives. That way, families who manage to get phone calls through can seek information on behalf of those who can’t.

Two of the worshippers, Ram Braradh, 23, and Bala Venkat, 25, were among the lucky ones who didn’t have to worry for more than a few minutes. Born and raised in the southern coastal city of Chennai, the two men work for the same Indian computer company and have been stateside for less than a year. They call home frequently, so they were spared the shock of learning about the disaster on television and the agony of rushing for the phone. Mr. Braradh’s parents told him about the tsunami right after it happened, when he called just to check in, he said. He informed Mr. Venkat directly, who reached his own parents right away.

Mr. Braradh and Mr. Venkat cherish memories of childhood days spent playing cricket on a sprawling beach that was slammed by this weekend’s tsunami. On any given sunny Sunday, as this one was, the beach is blanketed with as many as 1,000 cricketers. Mr. Braradh feared that a few of his friends whom he hasn’t yet been able to reach could have been among the massive tidal wave’s victims. He thinks they’re safe, he said, but he’ll call until he knows they are.

Two days ago, India’s southern beaches were full of children at play and citizens out for their morning constitutional, Ms. Mysorekar said. They parked their cars and set out for a jog along the water. Then they disappeared, and their cars were left to float behind them.

The magnitude of such a disaster is still impossible for Ms. Mysorekar to grasp. “Imagine,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief, “imagine parking your car and in 30 minutes you are no more.”