When it rains...

Rains have come to be synonymous with Mumbai's different phases of climate. Having been in the city for more than 3 years, I have come to understand that whether you love it or not, rains steer your life and determine your fashion!

July 26, 2005 was a black day in many of the city dwellers' lives. It was the day when I experienced the power of nature and understood in a very eery, calamitous way; how things could go topsy turvy without prior notice. Being one of the eye-witnesses, as someone put it, I could not help but write about this event (the very next day), probably one of the most compelling ones in my life thus far.

When it rains
(July 27, 2005)

Till a few days, I was quite ignorant of many things. Incurring the fury of Gods, the connotation of “Water, water everywhere… Not a drop to drink” and what people kept mumbling now and then about the undying resilience of Mumbayites.

Being in Mumbai for more than a year had only meant to be in a fast-paced city, metro glam-meets-retro slum, opportunities, fast food and a near Tsunami of people, everywhere. But on the evening of 26th July 2005, I naturally changed my thoughts to other factors, which manifested themselves in the face of many residents. Presenting to you, a real life drama where the parody was played on me, for a change.

On this particular rainy day, with loads of work still to be completed (writing to the column was in the heap too, as I had been suffering from a hopeless writers’ block, stop and cork!), on advice from many, I started my journey back home with a deficient windcheater (sometimes I listen to my over-inflated ego which had told me that day not to carry an umbrella, despite the drizzling). Once out of the gate, I was about to do a reverse flip to the office, looking at the water level, which was knee-length (I would not dare take my beautiful leather shoes and the neat fit trousers into dirty waters!). But I happened to see people in their blazers and ties do it and moreover, I did not want to look like I couldn’t do it. So I went ahead and waded through running water with rain lashing at us. Now it would not have been such a big thing had I been confident of swimming, just in case. And the case appeared, just as the gate seemed more and beckoning. With no big walker on tight rope, my foot did not touch the ground and lo and behold! I went under water trying to remember what the basic lessons would be. Finally, two angels, or were they three, pulled me up and I felt myself with foot firmly planted on ground for sometime. I finally reached my four-wheeler and felt like I had completed the biggest battle of all. Or so I thought.

As the car pulled on to the nearest flyover, a big traffic jam awaited us. Though jams are not uncommon here, this took a longer time for me – 5 hours. I thought MT (medical transcription) was so much better! After 5 hours looking at the relentless rain and desperate people, I decided to get out of the stationary automobile and take stock of the situation. Now here’s where the mind took over my now hibernating ego. With a partner, I took off to what I thought would be a short walk and then get some public transport (Somewhere, I thought, they would definitely be there!). Of course, we could not walk the actual distance of 10 kms. But here lay the biggest parody.

From one lake after another, one water clog leading to another, millions of people with umbrellas, jackets or nothing to fight the rain walked on and on like zombies. We just happened to be one of those who walked in the dark (thank god, there was no electricity or we would have had the taste of an electric shock too!).

But, though there were no lights and the way was not like “roses roses all the way” and people were apparently starved and thirsty, our compatriots were noble enough to lead us at places. Where there are stones and open drains; and which way had what water level. Many even found time to joke about the complete “system” thing and how it sucks. Some even made catcalls at females walkers. I was, of course in an unrecognizable costume (the hood of the windcheater made me look funny) and was trying hard to keep my balance! Some of the restaurants had kept the shop open at midnight to serve drinking water to people who were stuck without any hope and those who were trying to find some.

When I finally reached home I was more enlightened about how it feels when the wrath of Gods comes pouring on you. You may consider yourself lucky to be in the position that you are in, but what awaits one is something the MET Department can only claim after the damage is done. The havoc caused is immeasurable and the grief, inconsolable.

My walk is of very little significance when compared to the magnitude of damage inflicted on life and property. But if there was one thing that kept a person like me walking for 10 kms, in waist-deep water, it was the spirit of the people who walked along, guiding all the way. I am now confident to take on any trek, even when there are floods! Reaching the destination at 4 in the morning is no longer an issue, either!