August 12, 2005

Brother-in-law’s saga recounts disastrous monsoon rains

Worst rains in India on record

The city of Mumbai, formerly known as Bombay, typically withstands heavy rainfall during the three-month monsoon season—but not more than half of its average annual rainfall in 12 hours.

That’s exactly what happened in this commercial and financial hub of India on July 26—Mumbai received more than 37 inches of rain in a 24-hour period, setting a national record for the most rain in one day, according to a CNN online report. The downpour caused more than 400 deaths.

Evergreen resident Krishnan Subramani thought it would be interesting to share his brother-in-law’s firsthand account of the incident as a reminder that you never can tell when disaster will strike.

“The day began like any other normal day, with us leaving for the office around 8:30 a.m. The skies were clear, with occasional light showers interspersed throughout. We had no inkling of what lay in store for us later.

I continued my daily routine in office, with the usual banter between colleagues, when at around noon I observed that outside the sky was pitch dark. By around 3 p.m., the skies had opened up. But it did not mean anything, since the rains this year were scarce, and any rainfall that we had in the past lasted just a few hours.

By 4 p.m., we got information that there was a crisis in the city of Pune, since the dam near there was about to be opened up. Because my company also has operations in Pune, the Mumbai office serves as the Pune operation’s business continuity, in case of operational crisis at Pune and vice-versa.

At 4:30 p.m, as we were planning for transfer of operations from Pune to Mumbai, we received news that parts of the Mumbai roads were inundated and train services were reaching a standstill. Of course, none of us were prepared for what we were to witness in the next 14 to 24 hours.

While there was no announcement forthcoming, my wife Saras and I decided to leave the office at 5:30 p.m. A few colleagues of mine also had made their way out of office. Two of my wife’s colleagues and a colleague of mine staying in Thane joined us. As we snaked our way on the LBS Road from Vikhroli to Thane, the roads were flooded and it looked like we were moving on a waterbed.

Many Mumbai residents were wading through the floods to reach their homes, since the trains had stopped running by then. Muddy water lurked everywhere, and a few cars were already half submerged and had stalled.

By the time our car got on to the linking road from LBS to Eastern Express highway, the air conditioning unit of the car conked out. Water levels were rising and we soon had water inside on the floor of our car. The driver was tense, and even I was worried, but there was no way we could do anything about it.

Since the traffic was virtually not moving, my colleague and I got out of the car and tried to do a bit of traffic control and restore passage so that our car could move forward. We pushed cars in front and steered them away. Most cars were abandoned by their owners, and we retrieved a car from a ditch. We had waist high water and all of us were soaked to the bone.

By this time, in addition to the AC, the central locking system of the car also failed. Consequently, windows could not be rolled up or down. Water levels were as high as the door of the car and it was eerie to see so many cars floating and our car traversing like a hovercraft.

The driver moved the car slowly through the high rising waters, with prayers on our lips that the car should not stall anywhere. Fuel was also running low, and I had virtually harbored the thought of abandoning the car and walking all the way to Pestom Sagar. But the driver would have none of it. He kept saying, “It is a new car sir, we should not leave it here.”

We reached Eastern Express highway a full four hours later and had to contend with traveling on the opposite direction since the correct direction was blocked with stalled vehicles. Honking continuously on the middle of the road and crossing a fly-over from the wrong side of the one-way flyover, we managed to reach Kanjur Marg and cross over to the right direction.

We got home around 10:30 p.m., fully exhausted after the nightmare. But this was nothing compared to the video images of the floods obtained from a freelance videographer on the news.

Aftermath
I feel that we did not experience as much suffering as those whose homes were on the ground floor, whose belongings were destroyed in the floods that rose as high as the ceiling of the ground floor. My colleague who stays in Chembur’s Sindhi Colony row houses had his entire furniture and fittings destroyed along with the damage to clothes in cupboards, damaged provisions, etc.

In Jogeshwari, 1,000 buffaloes died in the floods, more livestock (as much as 15,000 goats) were dead and found floating on the streets along with corpses of humans. In Juhu, water levels were so high that people who were in cars and thought it to be safe there, suffocated in the cars and died.

More people were killed in landslides near Saki-Naka, specifically slum-dwellers. Both Central Railways and Western Railways have suffered damage to the trains, with some trains even being fully submerged in the water.

There is a fear of epidemic breaking out, and we were without water for two days. The water that we have been receiving is a brown color and we have bought lots of Bisleri Water for our consumption. Of course, we are boiling water and vegetables.

What worked, what failed
The only two things that have worked overtime in this hour of the calamity are rumor mongers—who spread rumors of tsunami/ cyclone leading to a stampede in some parts of the city and deaths of 20 people—and the “never say die” spirit of Mumbaikars. They were on the streets to help with food and drinking water, taking care of children /aged who could not reach their homes.

The biggest failure was the absence of a city disaster management system. There was not even one policeman on the street that day trying to manage the chaos. The communications system had failed for two days in succession. In addition, there were incidents of looting stereos and other accessories from about 200 cars.

Two weeks later
As life limped back to normalcy in Mumbai, the memories of “Terrible Tuesday—July 26” continued to haunt many people who lost their near and dear, and also lost their life’s possessions all in a six-hour deluge.

The civic administration was left facing embarrassing questions as to why the city that pays the maximum taxes to the central government did not even merit basic infrastructure.

Questions continue to pour in, and there is no dearth of excuses for the callous politicians and bureaucrats, who only chose to turn a blind eye and continue to blame the vagaries of nature.

However, for the effervescent nature of the citizens of Mumbai —who have seen and been through the tragedies of the 1991 communal riots, bomb-blasts, attacks on the aged and infirm— this is one more test that they will come through with a stoic face.

As I conclude, there are relief operations going on in full swing by private and government agencies, the Red Cross Society, non-government organizations, charitable trusts, private companies and even individuals going out of their way to restore normalcy.

The state government has admitted to its failure to evaluate its disaster management plan and readiness to implement the same. The Chief Minister has assured that the same will be re-worked and they will be better prepared the next time.

We may never know how ready they are until a similar catastrophe occurs.”

—T.V. Venkataraman

AID India is working on relief efforts. If you would like to help, go to the Web site: http://aidindia.org/ FloodRelief/
All photos by T.V. Venkataraman