We have been asking for Rains the past two months. And our prayers have been answered. And how. Its been raining for more than a week now. Floods devastating lives, not only in our state but in many other places in India... Be careful what you wish for - the Rains might hear you... But is it not a good thing? I mean imagine what we were facing 2 months back as we contemplated a drought situation, while waiting for the rains to show some mercy on the parched earth... So are floods better or drought (For, with the moody rains that visit us now-a-days, there doesn't seem to be a "in-between")? Well, who am I to decide that, anyway?
So its been raining past week. The powers that be who reign over the dark potent clouds, have been catching up on some much pending backlog. And yesterday, they went into maximum overdrive.
We Mumbaikars are characterized by our apathy towards most things - including rains. We never paid much attention to the rains. Not until the misguided ambition of a group of heavy-weight clouds to turn this city into an Indian version of Venice badly misfired - with disastrous effects. After 26th July 2005, no Mumbaikar took rains lightly. And that's why so many of us peeked out worriedly, yesterday, at the fast darkening sky and the torrents outside, praying for the working-day to get over soon...
Its past 4:00 in the evening. Tea time. We go down to have tea. Not that we don't have tea machines. But the powdered tea can never hold up against the traditional cutting from the chai-wala's tapri. Its raining heavily. Its been raining through out the day, but now its seems to have worsened. We are a group of 4 tea-drinkers. And between the 4 of us only one has had the foresight to get an umbrella. So, we borrow another umbrella from a friend, and two of us venture out to get some tea for us all. And just when we thought it couldn't rain much heavily, the rains intensify. So foolish of us to assign so relative a term as "heavy" to measure the rain's fury. By the time we get back we are more than half drenched.
5:30. A lady looks out of the window from the pantry and cries out excitedly (a bit too loudly if you ask me). Me and my friend Shushu make fun of her. Shushu even goes out of his way to go up to the pantry and imitate her. "oh my, look at the rains" he mimics in a "girly" tone... I was planning to leave a bit late. Lots of pending work. But may be I better leave on time? I am not the only one thinking this. I am sure similar thought bubbles are popping up in offices all over the city.
6:30. Officially, the working day is over - "officially" being the operative term, because for many of us in the IT industry, 6:30 is just half-way mark. But not today. The rains have not abated. If anything they seem to have intensified. At 6:30, its already as dark as night. We receive messages that all the office drop buses are running late due to traffic jams. Yup - Traffic Jams. These heavy rains have triggered an irrational(?) wave of panic - and all the "mango-people" have left office early in their rush to get home. And now they are all caught up on the vehicle-logged roads..
So I log off and leave the office. I reach our gate where so many from our office are waiting for the company buses - buses that will not be coming any time soon.
We wait, 15 minutes, we wait half an hour. 7:00 pm. No sign of the buses. Some have been trying to flag a rickshaw - with no success whatsoever. No point going for the public transport. The BEST buses will all be jam packed. Whats worse than having to travel in a Jam-Packed bus? That Jam packed bus getting stalled in Jam-packed traffic, thats what. The only option that leaves you is to rely on your two faithful legs to wade through the water-logged streets.
One of my colleagues, Mr. Punk, suggests this to me. I tell him "Its raining so heavily. Lets wait for the rains to slow down a bit." And then it starts raining cats, dogs and God knows what other domestic mammals...
Again I am reminded of how ineffectual the term "heavy" is, in describing this watery wrath of nature. We wait for another 10-15 minutes. The size of domestic animals thats been pouring down has now reduced. I guess one could say its now raining rats and rodents. So we finally decide to leave. I curse the idiotic moment when I decided to wear my best cream-coloured cotton-jeans trousers in the morning today. But no point crying over already worn trousers. I fold up the legs of my trousers, open the umbrella and follow Punk out into the sheets of rain.
This section of Andheri Kurla road, at J.B. Nagar, is clogged with more than ankle-deep water. The heavy construction work going on to lay the metro bridge right in the middle of this already narrow road isn't helping either. We reluctantly step into the water and start our one-two routine.
Progress is slow. For some time we walk on one side of the road. But its too water-logged. So we cross over. Now for some time we walk on the other side. But there is hardly any space to walk here. Too much traffic - stalled vehicles, blaring horns. Now we walk right in the middle of the road meandering our way between the stalled vehicles. Punk has been taking the lead. But he has to wait more than once to tie up the loosened knot of his Woodland shoes. So I am not the only one regretting his dressing-decision taken at the start of the day.
As we cross the JB Nagar signal, the water logging recedes and the road is clear - for now. But the incessant rains just won't give up. So we start walking besides the foot and a half wide divider that provides support to the under-construction metro bridge which now runs from Andheri station to all the way beyond JB Nagar. This is Punk's idea - taking shelter of the wide canopy of the metro bridge. Its quite comfy, except when you pass below a bridge join where the collected rain water falls on you in heavy waterfall-like torrents.
And we are not alone. There are a lot of people who form a part of this exodus of working-class-Mumbaikars migrating to Andheri. We soon cross the Chakala intersection. The traffic is jammed here. A mass of vehicles waiting right from this intersection till the highway.
Punk is in the lead as he makes way for both of us. He is like a horse - unable to see left or right - just what lies ahead... He keeps going straight, picking up the shortest possible path, irrespective of how difficult it may be - not for him - for me (he is as agile as a snake and I am only as graceful as a hippo in quicksand)... Its as if he is a man on a mission - to get this over with asap - by whatever means possible. And I don't blame him. We are pretty drenched by now - in spite of the umbrellas. Actually BECAUSE of the umbrellas. For as we have been picking our way through the throngs of people, their umbrellas have been dripping the runaway rivulets straight on to our shoulders. You hold my umbrella up, out of consideration for your neighbouring passersby. And they return your favour in kind, by holding their own umbrellas lower - depositing their waste water on you. Human nature. Kindness be damned - first save your own skin.
When we had started, I had mentioned to Punk that we might eat something on the way. But he declined - "I don't eat anything outside. But you can have something if you want". So, though pretty hungry, I did not broach the topic again. Now Punk suddenly stops at a vada-pav wala's tapri and says "If you want to have anything then have it now." - as if its another chore he wants to get over with and move on. I decline. I am hungry, but not so hungry that I would eat selfishly while my friend just stands there. But it was a very considerate gesture from him. We move on.
As we near the W.E. Highway, the roads are again water-logged. The water is again more than ankle deep and getting deeper with every step. There is water current here. Its flowing. Flowing from where? Flowing to where? Who cares. I am struggling to ignore the little pricking-poking-irritating pebbles that have managed to lodge themselves into my rainy sandals. Whatever I do, they just won't get dislodged.
Now we are passing below the canopy of the metro station which covers almost the entire breadth of the road here (near the highway). The sounds get amplified and echoed in this hollow cave-like place. The water is now deep enough to cover half my calves. And its flowing. So walking is difficult. The ladies in the crowd are crying out excitedly every now and then.
There is water logging not only on this side, but on the other side of the highway too. And both these sides are blocked off by the metro-bridge construction. Which leaves a very narrow space for both vehicles and pedestrians.
Once we cross the highway, there is another major traffic jam all the way to Andheri station. To get out of this mess Punk comes up with his master plan. He navigates us to the middle of the road. Then he climbs up over the wide divider supporting the pillars of the metro bridge. I hesitate. Walk OVER the divider??? What a zany idea!? But he is already up there and extending his hand to pull me up. I finally struggle a bit and heave myself up. We start walking over the divider. All is well until we find the massive bridge-supporting pillar blocking our way. This leaves very little space for us to pass by on either side of the pillar. We some how cross this hurdle hugging the pillar for support. We contine like this till the water has receeded and the road is clear again...
As we near the Andheri station, Punk suddenly spots a "bhutta-wala" (roasted corn). Now I guess he is hungry too. So hungry, in fact, that he jumps up the divider to cross over to the bhutta wala on the other side. So much for his not eating outside. But his choice is certainly healthier than the other junk food. Each of us has a nice hot cob of roasted corn. And it tastes awesome! Hunger is the best pickle - traditional hindi proverb...
When we reach Andheri station, the trains are running very late. So, Punk waits on the platform, while I go take a much needed leak... Then we cross over to the West side. On SV Road, we wait for the BEST bus. After a wait of 15-20 minutes, I spot a 359 coming our way. I leave Punk and go sit in the bus. As the bus moves on, I see Punk standing outside grinning away at me.
And so ended my journey back home on that rain-drenched day. As I think back, I am thankful I had Punk's company. It made my exodus to Andheri less tiresome and somewhat fun too. Especially I admired his idea of walking below the bridge. It kept us out of the water most of the time. And I was thankful to him for that. Thankful - ONLY till today evening, until, he comes to me and says - "Remember how we walked under the Metro Bridge yesterday?"
"Yeah man! It was quite an experience."
"A slab from that bridge just collapsed..."
All I can do is stare at his perpetually grinning face... So much for his "brilliant" idea...
So its been raining past week. The powers that be who reign over the dark potent clouds, have been catching up on some much pending backlog. And yesterday, they went into maximum overdrive.
We Mumbaikars are characterized by our apathy towards most things - including rains. We never paid much attention to the rains. Not until the misguided ambition of a group of heavy-weight clouds to turn this city into an Indian version of Venice badly misfired - with disastrous effects. After 26th July 2005, no Mumbaikar took rains lightly. And that's why so many of us peeked out worriedly, yesterday, at the fast darkening sky and the torrents outside, praying for the working-day to get over soon...
Its past 4:00 in the evening. Tea time. We go down to have tea. Not that we don't have tea machines. But the powdered tea can never hold up against the traditional cutting from the chai-wala's tapri. Its raining heavily. Its been raining through out the day, but now its seems to have worsened. We are a group of 4 tea-drinkers. And between the 4 of us only one has had the foresight to get an umbrella. So, we borrow another umbrella from a friend, and two of us venture out to get some tea for us all. And just when we thought it couldn't rain much heavily, the rains intensify. So foolish of us to assign so relative a term as "heavy" to measure the rain's fury. By the time we get back we are more than half drenched.
5:30. A lady looks out of the window from the pantry and cries out excitedly (a bit too loudly if you ask me). Me and my friend Shushu make fun of her. Shushu even goes out of his way to go up to the pantry and imitate her. "oh my, look at the rains" he mimics in a "girly" tone... I was planning to leave a bit late. Lots of pending work. But may be I better leave on time? I am not the only one thinking this. I am sure similar thought bubbles are popping up in offices all over the city.
6:30. Officially, the working day is over - "officially" being the operative term, because for many of us in the IT industry, 6:30 is just half-way mark. But not today. The rains have not abated. If anything they seem to have intensified. At 6:30, its already as dark as night. We receive messages that all the office drop buses are running late due to traffic jams. Yup - Traffic Jams. These heavy rains have triggered an irrational(?) wave of panic - and all the "mango-people" have left office early in their rush to get home. And now they are all caught up on the vehicle-logged roads..
So I log off and leave the office. I reach our gate where so many from our office are waiting for the company buses - buses that will not be coming any time soon.
We wait, 15 minutes, we wait half an hour. 7:00 pm. No sign of the buses. Some have been trying to flag a rickshaw - with no success whatsoever. No point going for the public transport. The BEST buses will all be jam packed. Whats worse than having to travel in a Jam-Packed bus? That Jam packed bus getting stalled in Jam-packed traffic, thats what. The only option that leaves you is to rely on your two faithful legs to wade through the water-logged streets.
One of my colleagues, Mr. Punk, suggests this to me. I tell him "Its raining so heavily. Lets wait for the rains to slow down a bit." And then it starts raining cats, dogs and God knows what other domestic mammals...
Again I am reminded of how ineffectual the term "heavy" is, in describing this watery wrath of nature. We wait for another 10-15 minutes. The size of domestic animals thats been pouring down has now reduced. I guess one could say its now raining rats and rodents. So we finally decide to leave. I curse the idiotic moment when I decided to wear my best cream-coloured cotton-jeans trousers in the morning today. But no point crying over already worn trousers. I fold up the legs of my trousers, open the umbrella and follow Punk out into the sheets of rain.
This section of Andheri Kurla road, at J.B. Nagar, is clogged with more than ankle-deep water. The heavy construction work going on to lay the metro bridge right in the middle of this already narrow road isn't helping either. We reluctantly step into the water and start our one-two routine.
Progress is slow. For some time we walk on one side of the road. But its too water-logged. So we cross over. Now for some time we walk on the other side. But there is hardly any space to walk here. Too much traffic - stalled vehicles, blaring horns. Now we walk right in the middle of the road meandering our way between the stalled vehicles. Punk has been taking the lead. But he has to wait more than once to tie up the loosened knot of his Woodland shoes. So I am not the only one regretting his dressing-decision taken at the start of the day.
As we cross the JB Nagar signal, the water logging recedes and the road is clear - for now. But the incessant rains just won't give up. So we start walking besides the foot and a half wide divider that provides support to the under-construction metro bridge which now runs from Andheri station to all the way beyond JB Nagar. This is Punk's idea - taking shelter of the wide canopy of the metro bridge. Its quite comfy, except when you pass below a bridge join where the collected rain water falls on you in heavy waterfall-like torrents.
And we are not alone. There are a lot of people who form a part of this exodus of working-class-Mumbaikars migrating to Andheri. We soon cross the Chakala intersection. The traffic is jammed here. A mass of vehicles waiting right from this intersection till the highway.
Punk is in the lead as he makes way for both of us. He is like a horse - unable to see left or right - just what lies ahead... He keeps going straight, picking up the shortest possible path, irrespective of how difficult it may be - not for him - for me (he is as agile as a snake and I am only as graceful as a hippo in quicksand)... Its as if he is a man on a mission - to get this over with asap - by whatever means possible. And I don't blame him. We are pretty drenched by now - in spite of the umbrellas. Actually BECAUSE of the umbrellas. For as we have been picking our way through the throngs of people, their umbrellas have been dripping the runaway rivulets straight on to our shoulders. You hold my umbrella up, out of consideration for your neighbouring passersby. And they return your favour in kind, by holding their own umbrellas lower - depositing their waste water on you. Human nature. Kindness be damned - first save your own skin.
When we had started, I had mentioned to Punk that we might eat something on the way. But he declined - "I don't eat anything outside. But you can have something if you want". So, though pretty hungry, I did not broach the topic again. Now Punk suddenly stops at a vada-pav wala's tapri and says "If you want to have anything then have it now." - as if its another chore he wants to get over with and move on. I decline. I am hungry, but not so hungry that I would eat selfishly while my friend just stands there. But it was a very considerate gesture from him. We move on.
As we near the W.E. Highway, the roads are again water-logged. The water is again more than ankle deep and getting deeper with every step. There is water current here. Its flowing. Flowing from where? Flowing to where? Who cares. I am struggling to ignore the little pricking-poking-irritating pebbles that have managed to lodge themselves into my rainy sandals. Whatever I do, they just won't get dislodged.
Now we are passing below the canopy of the metro station which covers almost the entire breadth of the road here (near the highway). The sounds get amplified and echoed in this hollow cave-like place. The water is now deep enough to cover half my calves. And its flowing. So walking is difficult. The ladies in the crowd are crying out excitedly every now and then.
There is water logging not only on this side, but on the other side of the highway too. And both these sides are blocked off by the metro-bridge construction. Which leaves a very narrow space for both vehicles and pedestrians.
Once we cross the highway, there is another major traffic jam all the way to Andheri station. To get out of this mess Punk comes up with his master plan. He navigates us to the middle of the road. Then he climbs up over the wide divider supporting the pillars of the metro bridge. I hesitate. Walk OVER the divider??? What a zany idea!? But he is already up there and extending his hand to pull me up. I finally struggle a bit and heave myself up. We start walking over the divider. All is well until we find the massive bridge-supporting pillar blocking our way. This leaves very little space for us to pass by on either side of the pillar. We some how cross this hurdle hugging the pillar for support. We contine like this till the water has receeded and the road is clear again...
As we near the Andheri station, Punk suddenly spots a "bhutta-wala" (roasted corn). Now I guess he is hungry too. So hungry, in fact, that he jumps up the divider to cross over to the bhutta wala on the other side. So much for his not eating outside. But his choice is certainly healthier than the other junk food. Each of us has a nice hot cob of roasted corn. And it tastes awesome! Hunger is the best pickle - traditional hindi proverb...
When we reach Andheri station, the trains are running very late. So, Punk waits on the platform, while I go take a much needed leak... Then we cross over to the West side. On SV Road, we wait for the BEST bus. After a wait of 15-20 minutes, I spot a 359 coming our way. I leave Punk and go sit in the bus. As the bus moves on, I see Punk standing outside grinning away at me.
And so ended my journey back home on that rain-drenched day. As I think back, I am thankful I had Punk's company. It made my exodus to Andheri less tiresome and somewhat fun too. Especially I admired his idea of walking below the bridge. It kept us out of the water most of the time. And I was thankful to him for that. Thankful - ONLY till today evening, until, he comes to me and says - "Remember how we walked under the Metro Bridge yesterday?"
"Yeah man! It was quite an experience."
"A slab from that bridge just collapsed..."
All I can do is stare at his perpetually grinning face... So much for his "brilliant" idea...
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