The Hindu Business Line : Devastated!

The clouds carried no warning. It was a typical rainy day that brought Mumbaikars out for a cup of tea and fried-snacks at the street-side stall. And as the drizzle continued steadily through the day, office-goers indulged in idle chatter as they prepared to leave early in the evening for home.

Armed with nothing more than an umbrella, little did they suspect that it was to be their longest journey home. They certainly had no clue that what lay in store over the next 72 hours would alter their lives forever.

As phones went dead, trains ground to a halt, food became scarce, taps went dry and electricity too shut down in some parts of the megapolis — even the hardy Mumbaikar began to feel uneasy and vulnerable.

A record 94 cm rain over 24 hours, the highest the city has seen in 95 years, and people were left wading through a flood of water on arterial roads leading out of the city. All they had was the road-divider for a guide and an occasional helping hand from local residents, who warned of open drains under the swirling waters.

But as waters swelled into the ground-level homes of friends and colleagues, as children of working parents stayed overnight at school or with the domestic help, and some employees spent the night at office for a second consecutive day — Mumbai stood cold, wet and unprepared.

But the misery did not end there. The city suffered three more tragedies — an explosion at an oil-rig at Bombay High, a landslide at Saki Naka and a stampede at Juhu, all in quick succession. Weary residents wondered just how much more misery could a city take.

Joy washed out

At the last count, the death toll in Maharashtra was 850 and mounting. More than half of these deaths were in India's financial capital.

The three rain-battered days have changed the way Mumbaikars greet this annual, and almost always regular, visitor. Far from welcoming the showers that clear polluted skies and bathe the tree-cover green, they now dread the return of the killer cascade.

Long-time residents who have lived through and loved every monsoon in the past, point out that the rains on 26/7 have ruthlessly exposed the megapolis' lack of adequate disaster management systems.

Watery leveller

The rains in the past had barely stirred Mumbai authorities out of their complacency, as it was largely the slum-dwellers who bore the brunt of heavy downpours. This time too slum-dwellers on the fringes of the financial hub faced water logging and the disruptions that came with it. But what shook Mumbai by its roots and grabbed nationwide attention was the trail of destruction wrecked through Central and North Mumbai.

The Western Express Highway turns into a `waterway'.

Affluent residential colonies in places such as Sion, Bandra, Khandivili, Santa Cruz, Kalina, Kurla, Saki Naka and Thane witnessed unprecedented scenes. Water levels rose, in some cases up to the first floor of buildings, swank cars floated in the muck the torrent brought in, and even the rich and famous were not spared. News reports said that the ground floor of Bollywood superstar Amitabh Bachchan's house was flooded; Sunny Deol and brother Bobby pushed the raft carrying their secretary, who had suffered a heart attack, to a hospital through the flooded streets. Even Shiv Sena supremo Bal Thackeray was taken in a raft to his nephew's residence.

Music director Raju Singh waded through the waters to fetch his daughter and two of her classmates from a school in Jogeshwari. By the time he neared his residence at Juhu Scheme, a 6-km walk, waters had risen waist-high.

"It was difficult to negotiate through the waters with the children. A man came along and helped me reach home," he recounts. Back home, the building's ground floor was already under water.

Another 45-year-old resident of Andheri was not even this lucky. He decided to head home, braving the floodwater, and slipped and drowned in a ditch at Khar.

A bus driver naps during a traffic jam.

Over one million people were caught in transit: sleeping or standing in buses, trains and cars, and on the roads for 24-36 hours. Some people stranded at the main VT and Churchgate stations, as well as other suburban railway stations, bought food from enterprising stall-vendors. "At one station a vendor was cooking rice and dal for the stranded passengers," said a commuter.

This scene was familiar across the city, as the rain let up a little. Anxious relatives waited at Victoria Docks for news of their loved-ones lost at sea, following the oilrig explosion. At Saki Naka, relatives watched in horror as rescue-workers extricated family members from under the landslide debris.

Some others managed to escape miraculously. Like the Shrinagar Society at Chembur, where residents broke down the complex's compound wall to rescue slum-dwellers from drowning in the floodwaters.

Slums labour on

In a city where skyscrapers soar peaceably beside sprawling slums — it was, perhaps ironically, the economically disadvantaged slums that were back on their feet first.

The dingy lanes forking out from the arterial road at Dharavi, touted as Asia's largest slum, were back to daily chores within a couple of days of the deluge. A common sight in the morning was of women seated in a row, washing clothes. Like elsewhere in the soaked city, they were taking advantage of the little sunshine that finally broke out of the wet, steel-grey clouds.

Their children were back at school, the flower lady was busy stringing garlands and, a short distance from her, a young man did brisk business making crisp dosas for hungry passers-by.

Not-so-lucky elite

The more affluent residential complexes, where electricity took more than two days to be restored and water was unavailable even until this story went to press, are taking longer to return to normalcy.

Residents were still mopping up rainwater and clearing the muck that entered houses on the ground floor. Shopkeepers attempted vainly to dry out rain-soaked stocks. And animal carcasses floated unclaimed in the waters.

But the rains continued relentless into the next week, as grim-faced residents tried to salvage belongings.

Path of destruction

South Mumbai, the city's business district, was moderately affected. Other parts were in no such luck. The Mithi river, which was a mere "nallah" to residents all these days, suddenly swelled beyond recognition. The river originates at Powai and flows into the Arabian Sea at Mahim creek after passing through the industrial and residential areas of Powai, Saki Naka, Kurla, Kalina and Mahim.

Outside Mumbai, Thane, Kalyan and Raigad were also badly affected, with floods ravaging homes and killing hundreds of animals tethered to their sheds.

Heal... and learn

The famed spirit of Mumbai will help people recover and heal. But they should not forgive the authorities, says one angry resident. Disaster management was all but absent.

"This calamity has proved that Mumbai needs to take an international approach to disaster management. The city needs to invest in infrastructure such as choppers, emergency equipment, alternative power systems and, more importantly, information dissemination that can help mitigate problems," she suggests.

Let's leave Shanghai dreams for a later date...

Pictures by Shashi Ashiwal

Article E-Mail :: Comment :: Syndication :: Printer Friendly Page

Stories in this Section
Lip-smacking facts

Unhealthy health business

Making value-based films

Winner all the way

Holding up a `Nobel' example