India, As I See it : Floods in Mumbai

Most of us would remember that Mumbai was flooded on 26th July 2005.

That morning I was in dadar market, out shopping with my mother.

2:00 pm: 

The 2 lane streets were filling up with water and my Mom and I felt, it was time to start moving homewards, only to avoid an excessive flow of evening traffic.

3:30 pm: 

We walked without finding a single taxi. We soon heard that the local trains had stopped because of the increased water level on the railway tracks; Offices were closing down early to help people get back home to safety.

4:30pm: 

We had walked 2.8kms and reached Mahim Church. By then, we were part of an ocean of people, moving in a single direction.

Each one walking with a single thought, “How will I get back home today?”

Traffic had come to a standstill.

Mobile signals were jammed; All around we saw scores of people, each one moving an inch at a time. 

5.45pm: 

We had slowly but gradually walked 4.4kms and reached bandra. My mother moved homewards and I moved on towards my destination in santacruz.

I was on my own.

By then, the water level had almost risen my waist. We had never seen anything like this before.

By now, people had started holding each other’s hands for help against the strong water current, small children were being carried on the shoulders of total strangers, BEST bus drivers were holding on to their seats not knowing what they were waiting for, passengers travelling to far off destination waited with baited breath and whispered a prayer for their safety that night;

(Picture of Volunteers helping people cross the flooded road)

There was a concern, a question mark on every face. There was this strong need to see that familiar street, that known door, each one of us calls “home”.

But a strong common sentiment resonated that evening: “No rain can shake us. No calamity can move us. We are all together in this. We will make it through this.”

7:15pm: 

I was finally around my house after having walked a approximate distance of 7.7 kms from dadar; exhausted and unsure about my every step; and the lights went out.

I was devastated. I could barely see the direction I was walking in.

I had to turn into the right lane leaving the ocean of people around me. Feeling extremely insecure, I looked around helplessly; Not knowing what to say or do; 

I heard an unknown voice call out, “Madam ji, road ki beech me chalo. Wahan paani kum hai”(Madam, walk in the middle of the road. The water levels r lower in the middle.)

I turned around and it was an auto rickshaw driver I had never seen before.

I wanted to move towards the middle of the road but the water current was getting too strong. The water was now almost 12-14 inches above my waist. I needed some support, something I could hold on to. Some anchor! 

I wanted to cry. It almost felt like I could no longer continue to stand on my feet. What if I drowned? What if I never got back home? But I was only one street away! 

Sensing my fears, my hesitation and helplessness, the rickshaw driver promptly moved towards me.

He beckoned 2 more men to help out an old man who was having difficulty managing on his own.

The rickshaw driver held my hand, walking ahead of me, making way for me to move. 

An inch at a time, we turned right and I could finally see the window of my house.

9:00pm: 

Electricity was back. I was at home and watched television in despair about thousands of people who were stranded on the streets.

Houses in slums and low-lying areas were filled up with water. People were looking for food and shelter for spending the night.

The ringing of the landline phone that night sent a cold chill down the spine. I answered calls with shaking hands; hoping the phone call did not bring some bad news about some one known to me. 

11:15pm: 

The rains had stopped and we could hear news of the water levels coming down. Vehicles were not moving but at-least the situation was more under control.

And then my doorbell rang. Who could it be at such a late hour in the night? I promptly answered the door. It was my neighbour. 

A retired dental surgeon, My neighbour and his wife are old people, in their 70’s. Not known to be too social, nor outgoing.

Responding to my quizzical look, he said, “I am going out with a bucket of tea and biscuits. Thought I would ask if you wish to join me?”

I did not understand what he was talking about! Why the hell was he, at his age going out in these floods, and with a bucket of tea and biscuits?

I asked him “Are you taking the tea for some relatives?” He simply smiled at me and said “Yes, I am taking this for the thousands of unknown relatives who are stranded on the roads tonight. The tea will bring them some warmth in this chill. They have all been stranded for hours now. Must be hungry. Thought I would take some biscuits too.”

I was moved to tears on hearing these words.

There were thousands of unknown faces out there, who would be spending their night in the arms of Mumbai city. This was the least we could do for them.

We gathered more people from the neighbouring apartments, put together snacks and tea for about 350 people. 

Through the night, groups took turns for cooking and for carrying the food to people stranded on the streets; 

Next Morning:

It drizzled but the water levels came down. 

Without any internal communication, hundreds of families who made it safely home, had made the choice of moving out of their comfort for feeding snacks, and biscuits and poha (rice flakes) and upma (semolina porridge) and tea and coffee to thousands who were not able to make it home that night.

Calamities were reported.

People opened the doors to their homes for office goers stranded in their vicinity. Strangers helped people on the streets to make phone calls and convey messages to relatives. Food was fed without questions about who's who! Despite the rain there was the warmth of love and oneness in the air.

There were no rich and no poor people; No caste, no religion differences; That evening we were all One in Spirit.

THIS IS THE TRUE SPIRIT of My #MUMBAI

The Spirit of Mumbai stood tall in the face of the worst disaster of all times. 

Mumbai moves on no matter what; because, thats what each morning spent in this city, has taught us to do!

This blogpost is part of the Series “India, The Way I see it”. Watch out this blog for more such sharing’s in the coming weeks.

Pictures Courtesy: 

http://www.hindustantimes.com/   http://www.theguardian.com   http://www.youthconnect.in/   http://karmayog.com