Where Were You That Day?

“Where Were You That Day?” Well this is just not interrogation question from a crime scene investigation that is under way, or a wife trying to find the whereabouts of her husband. Everyone has a story for that day, or atleast every Mumbaikar who was in Mumbai that day does. See I am not saying night, hour evening, but day. Before it starts sounding unfamiliar, yes I am referring to the rains that created havoc on 26^th July of 2005. In one way or more we all had stories and real life incidents that will remain etched in our memories for years. The morning of 26/07 of the year 2012, seven years past, as I woke from my bed I had "The Dark Knight Rises" on my mind, still fresh from the last evening viewing of movie.

Not for once did I realize that well its 26/07 again, seven years down, having spent time in various other cities, both in India and overseas, and none felt like home like Mumbai does. It’s just that when I started reading the days’ newspaper once I reached work that it dawned upon me indeed it’s been seven years.On July 26, 2005, the Santa Cruz weather station registered a record 944mm of rain in 24 hours. On July 26, 2012, the same weather station recorded only 0.9mm rain between 8.30am and 5.30pm. Is that even a comparison?

Having viewed the havoc that Gotham City underwent on the celluloid on 25/07 night, I was still reeling from how one man saves them from what seemed one last time before moving on to rightly have a life of his own. And then I think about the countless and mostly unsung heroes that one act of nature gave this city that day. It was a very natural question asked by anyone to anyone to strike a conversation in days leading from that “now historical” day, "Where were you that day?” Well that’s the questions I am asking myself today and perhaps get you to think where you were that day. If you were not lucky to experience 26/07/05, am sure there might be some other day or event which you may relate to, happy or not that’s for you to decide.

That Day started as any other day, only difference being that just last evening we had returned from Shirdi, after seeking Sai Baba's blessings. As we drove from Shirdi towards Mumbai on 25/07 the clouds were grey, they would burst anytime, however there was no way of saying what was in store for the next day. Samir called me at about 1000 hrs and in his usual tone dictated “Mote, get your car today since my car is gone to the garage". Now Samir was one of the most innocent faced people you would meet and after talking to him you would definitely feel that you are more blessed that he was. In ways he was Richie Rich, the poor little rich boy and at times Charlie Chaplin “I walk in the rain, so no one can see me cry”.

Those days my father’s office was nearby and he preferred public transport to the car. This meant I could alternate with Samir in taking our cars to work. We used to drive through the scenic Aarey Milk Colony. That’s the only place I know Samir would ever ask me to roll the windows down and turn off the air condition. It still remains a green patch for most part, and the breeze at any time of the day is still pleasant when one drives from there. So as we drove through the forest, we animatedly decided not to go to work and let the destination be extended to Lonavala. Well the clouds, the weather everything demanded that. Another thing, being the professionals we were, we found ourselves at our desks in about 30 minutes from that conversation.

We were a team of about 20, who were in a project which catered to a UK based Telecom major, and provided application support from 0800-2200 GMT, and while most of my colleagues were tied to their desktops with the headsets that helped define their circumference of movement; I was not bound by any such device, until it was crisis. I used look into reporting, MIS and documenting the day’s events and sharing with the stakeholders. So well it would have been about 12:30 pm that the first shift which was about 15 of us was in and it seemed business as usual. The weather demanded more than the usual trips to the tea stall outside the office compound. It was only an hour into the shift and we had our concerns growing with the intensity of the rains.

At about 2:30-3:00 p.m. the lifeline of Mumbai’s public transport, the railways came to a halt and the red buses were taking over 2 hours to cover a distance of 10 kilometers, which was way too slow even by their standards. Someone pulled out the newspaper from their bag and shared that it was high tide, which meant that the rains were only adding to the water ebbing in. Slowly mobiles phones services were beginning to jam and at one time the lifeline for communication was the good old MTNL landlines which still had some life in it. With every passing hour, the rains seemed to get worse, and a few attempts to connect on the phone with my home confirmed that dad was home half day since it seemed it would get worse. My aunt and uncle who stayed in a low lying area at Juhu, fearing the worst had already come over to our place as well after securing their house. Many years of practice of staying in a ground floor flat in a low lying area had taught them how to take care of self and their house in ankle deep water. But today it seemed it may perhaps be knee deep, so well they did what they could and in good time reached our house some 8 kilometers away and securely on the second floor. It was only two days later that they found, it wasn’t knee deep as estimated by them, but was waist high!!

Was it time to invoke BCP DRP for the process? Not yet we took a call. However we ensured that our client was informed of the situation that was unfolding and what we had planned for. It was decided that we shall re-route all calls to our second level support team directly who operated from Pune some 160 kilometers away, should the situation demand. The Pune team were more than happy to contribute in whatever manner and kept the divide of second level support supremacy over first level support out of the banter for this time. Luckily our second shift which used to come in by 1800 IST had only two members on it and two were on their weekly off. As much as the two blokes were eager to join us at work, the pickup cabs just could not reach anywhere near their residences, so they were asked to stay put at home and not risk anything.

Like in any team, we had our differences as well. We spoke to a few, better with others and conveniently ignored a few. But somewhere I saw that for the first time in so many months we were getting to know more about each other and about our families. At about 1900 hours while it was still pouring, we did not know what to make of the road outside. Since our office compound was atop or more accurately on the slope of a hillock, water from one end flowed to the other like a steady stream, like the ones that spring during monsoon season at Lonavala which is mid way to Mumbai and Pune. From the news that we were exchanging about where and how our respective families were and what they had to report, it was clear, Mumbai had become like a bowl and water was pouring and over flowing from all over and  roads were becoming streams. Hollywood movies like Titanic (there was a bar across from the office by that name as well), Poseidon etc came to our mind. By 1930 hrs all calls were now directed to Pune and the client was aware of what Mumbai was under. The Suburban electric grid collapsed and was shut down as well fearing the damage it could cause. Schools and offices were to soon become the shelter houses for many. News from nearby offices which were on the edges of the hillock confirmed the worst that water had found its way into basements, IT server rooms etc and even a few cars were reported to be floating. Since our office was placed such and I had got a stilt parking, my beautiful car was untouched from all the rain water around. She did play some nice music for all those who had gathered round her that evening, when we had stepped out from our cubicles for a cutting chai.

The office that I worked from was a typical IT office and we were a BPO unit within that. So it wasn’t difficult to separate men from boys, actually it was the other way, us being the "boys". We all decided that we shall stay put at office, whoever was able to get through the jammed network, communicated the same to their families. Am sure there was one insane being who was determined to get back home even if he had to swim backwards. I did say Samir was made from a different soil. Thankfully he decided against it once he was able to hear the same from his family over the phone after several failed attempts to connect with them.

Most of us used to carry our lunch from home or were happy to eat from the carts just outside the office boundary wall. At times the second shift team used to bring in some hot savories that were consumed almost immediately as they arrived. There was no such treat that evening, and all the shops and street food vendors had to close business as well. The cafeteria used to be our last option. But that evening the Dal and Rice prepared at the cafeteria tasted divine. It was the same Dal and Rice that we would not eat even if we were paid to eat it, and here we were thankful to our organization to get the canteen to feed all the staff which was in hundreds at no cost. There was a team from Pune that had come down the morning as well, and there was a pretty lady in that team. The "boys" including me would be over the moon if she looked our way or spoke to us. I went across and enquired what their plans were etc, which I guess was a very stupid question for that moment in time. Swimming back home was not on her mind she said. A bit red faced I said goodbye to that team and returned to my fold.

Even though our team seemed to do the most clerical work of logging first level tickets, all of us were brilliant techies and knew more that that was required of the job. Rules were kept aside for that evening as the night took over. It was still raining outside. Lights were kept to the minimum and I guess we had the cooling still on. And then the brilliant stuff. Ram our operations manager suggested or rather challenged everyone to a game of car racing. Well I did say were a brilliant bunch, so one of the geeks was prompt to install the game on the LAN and before we knew it, everyone had selected a car they were “gonna” enter the race with. No gathering such as the one that evening is complete without Antakshri, ad game which gets everyone to sing along the best of Hindi music or as popularly know Bollywood. The evergreen movie “Maine Pyar Kiya” and one of the longest running shows “Antakshri” on a TV channel had only help promote it further.

We played and sang till such that our eyes couldn’t take it and our throats were parched, and then the very desks that we used to be hooked to with our headsets were our retirement rooms. Each one of us dozed off in our own comfort. A few like me under the desk, a few like they just felt asleep while answering a long call, and well some on the desks!!. Most of us slept, some snored, and one was talking in his own sleep. I was awake with another friend. We continued to think that while we have been perched on this hill slope, how many must be still out there trying to make their way home or stranded on their way. We all are aware that even the smallest of rains or unplanned strike can throw the entire city out of gear.  How horrible it must have been with the clouds still pouring was still unfathomable. We were to find that out soon though.

The next morning was quick. As all of us woke up early, we rushed downstairs to look at what the rains we love so much did to us and our "City of Dreams". The stream was still flowing and the water was clear at a few places and brown from the earth that was exposed with the uprooting of the trees around t others. The internet was a great source of news update back then, when we were still to realize the power and effectiveness of what Facebook and Twitter offer.  All the websites now had photographs of what all happened to and in my city. They spoke about people, ordinary people like you and me, some who braved but lost their lives, numerous who lost their homes and of those who became unsung heroes. Heroes not by being Batman of Gotham who took it upon himself to clean the mess each time his city was hit or tormented. But heroes who stood with each other, reached out to one another, opened their doors to strangers for resting in the night, passed food or whatever was available to people who were making their way home still.

As we kept hearing stories from the people on the road and on the odd phone calls, it only added to the pages of Mumbai’s legend of never giving up. No blast, no strike, no riots can keep my city down. When it was time to drive back home, Samir and I got in the car and this time our windows were rolled down for the entire journey. We weren’t sure if taking the forest route home would be safe or feasible, however we took our chance. As we drove through the dense, we did see a lot of trees uprooted, at places the entire top of the road tarmac was missing and laid washed away like a slice of cheese or butter carved out of the block. But again, there were faces, some with smiles, some blank, some sad. We did not know how to feel. As we stopped at the tea stall before reaching home, we again heard stories being told and shared by the auto and taxi drivers. They said it was long time since the spirit of Mumbai was tested like this. Each story that was told had a common thread of the hands that stretched that day to either help someone or to reach out for help. For a change the urchins were not being shoed with animated gestures for asking for alms, for a change a man did not pull out a rod or chain to attack and rob, hands did not grope helpless women and kids.  People everywhere helped one another to rise above the odds. I salute to all those who helped and pray for all those who did not survive.

The next few days were not as horrific however the rains were enough to keep everyone alert and prepared for another encounter. The newspapers, television channels, radio stations and needless to say the internet were only broadcasting replays and stories from the 26^th still. Mumbaikars, many of them for the first time including me, were made aware that it had a river following through its length and breadth and had a name, “ Mithi”. Until the 26^th this used to be a nullah and a tiny stream of toxins, but if it was not for the rains that day we would have never seen this river rise. To date millions of rupees have been allocated to de-silt and widen the river, but still no light to see any results. There was no easy way of differentiating sewage water from the water in the pipelines since the entire water system was contaminated and needed chlorination at various stages. Environmentalists had their share of limelight to make people aware of the disappearing mangroves, which again was cited as a key reason for the deluge, along with no proper storm water draining plan. As a firsts of sort of many events, both the domestic and international airports were defunct for over 30 hours and the picturesque Mumbai-Pune Expressways had to closed due to the numerous landslides on route. 

Can one imagine that the 24 hours of rains managed to devour over 26000 cars, over 40000 auto rickshaws and taxis, several 100 buses and over 8000 trucks. Overall in Maharashtra the death toll was estimated to be 5000, with several hundred from Mumbai itself. This apart there were over 20000 animal carcasses and tons of garbage that had shored up which had to be cleared with JCB’s and dumpers. Loss of business ran into several millions with the financial capital of the country unable to transact during the two days period. Servers crashed, links had to be restored before the banking and financial institutes could reopen to business as usual. The iconic Mumbai and National Stock Exchange were partial in operation, perhaps as a sign that Mumbai never dies.The fear of an epidemic was also looming and hospitals had to be kept ready to deal with the sudden rise in diseases and medicines had to be distributed free.

It must have been the divine grace of Siddhi Vinayak, The peer at Haji Ali and Mumbai’s own Mumba Devi that things were got under control soon. I don’t know somehow I did cry and thought just for that moment that the rain-gods helped my city be cleansed of the sins of '92 when events in a holy city triggered a blood bath in all the others including mine. I don’t know, I think!!