Battered ... Mumbai survives
KALPANA SHARMA
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The monsoon of 2005 will remain seared in the collective memory of people in this city. But the story of July 26 is `of resilience and bravery by ordinary people and neglect and inefficiency by the administration'.
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`There was despair and frustration, but also much to admire that night and the day that followed. For a city that is sometimes accused of being callous, it was astonishing to see how people cared.'
PHOTO: AP
A MONSOON LASHING: When angry Nature struck, sparing nothing in its wake, the citizens of Mumbai, undeterred, fought back.
MUMBAI has survived to tell the tale of Terrible Tuesday, July 26, 2005, when it broke the world record of rain in 24 hours. That is a distinction the long-suffering denizens of this city could have done without.
On July 26, lakhs of Mumbaikars went to work, to school and college as they would on any normal monsoon day. People in the city are used to the discomfort — to flooding, wading through water, slow trains and buses, as well as the crashing waves along the seacoast. All this is a part of what the monsoon is all about. They also know that the monsoon is not forever. It lasts for three months, and is then forgotten until the next year.
But the monsoon of 2005 will remain seared in the collective memory of people in this city. What began as an ordinary day for people, never ended. In the 24-hour period from 8.30 a.m. July 26 to 8.30 a.m. July 27, the city's suburbs — which now house the majority of its population — received an incredible 944.2 mm (94.42 cm) of rain, exceeding the record set by Cherapunjee of 833 mm (83.3 cm) in 1910. Much of this fell within a 12-hour period that also coincided with the high tide. The result was devastation on a scale unknown even to this monsoon-scarred city.
A week after the deluge that brought this modern city to a complete standstill, every one you meet has a story to tell — of horror and of humanity, of determination and of despair. Even the gods could not have stopped the rain, but could the Government have helped just a little? Two days after the floods and destruction, the Government was absent. It had declared a two-day holiday for the State and seemed to have gone on vacation too. And if it had a disaster management plan, it must have been safely locked up.
Unexpected Samaritans
At least this is what most people living in the worst affected areas felt as each day dawned and there was no electricity, no water, the streets were piled with garbage and carcasses of animals, phones did not work and there was no sight of government, of political parties and even of the bigger non-governmental organisations.
The only solace lakhs of beleaguered residents got was from unexpected Samaritans, ordinary people who decided they could not just stand by and watch others suffer. So on July 26, when trains stopped, roads flooded and lakhs of people were stranded in buses, trains, cars, autorickshaws or were struggling in waist-deep water on inundated roads, men, women and even children turned up as if out of nowhere with food and water. People opened their homes to strangers, inviting them in to use the toilet, eat some hot food, drink water and just dry off. Young boys risked their own lives to rescue people stranded in buses and trains. People spontaneously bought bottles of water, biscuits, fruit, the Mumbai staple of wada pav and distributed them to people who were stranded. Stories of such humanity continue to come out even as the city struggles to recover from almost a week of lashing by the monsoon.
Everyone affected
PHOTO: REUTERS
People in the rest of the country, who saw images of hordes of people in Mumbai patiently making their way through waist deep water, must have been puzzled. Were Mumbaikars crazy to step out in such weather? But what those images illustrate is an ethic, perhaps unique to the people of Mumbai. It is their determination to get to work, and their belief that they can get back home, rain or shine. It is this attitude that made lakhs step out on a day when there was little indication of the impending deluge and that made them choose to venture out again in pouring rain instead of staying safe and dry in their offices. The majority would have believed that it would take them perhaps a couple of hours to reach home. Little did they know it could take a couple of days.
In the past, rains have brought romance for the rich and misery for the poor. Most of Mumbai's slum colonies are located in low-lying areas. Or perched on dangerous hillsides and quarries. These are the first to be flooded when it rains. Or are buried under landslides. The rich and the middle class live in concrete high rises that remain untouched. This time it was different. Everyone was affected, the poor and the rich, or at least the middle-class. The rain this time did not discriminate.
There was despair and frustration, but also much to admire that night and the day that followed. For a city that is sometimes accused of being callous, it was astonishing to see how people cared. But we should not have been surprised. Public memory is short. People have forgotten that in the 1992-93 riots, when there was mayhem, killing, arson and rioting in the city, and the government of the day seemed to be sitting on its hands, it is the initiative of ordinary people that finally reached essential relief to many people. Only after this did the government, with the help of the army, begin to send out relief.
On July 26 and 27, and several days after that, we have seen a repeat of that in Mumbai. Most Mumbaikars now know that when in doubt, or in trouble, don't wait. Help out. Do something. And last week's ordeal has reinforced this belief.
Why did it flood?
But once the rains stop and the water recedes, we have to ask: was our fortitude worth it in the face of what seems a paralysed and indifferent administration? And why did Mumbai flood? Was it only the coincidence of exceptionally heavy rains and the high tide?
It was more than just these two factors. One of the areas in the city most severely affected was Kalina, an area close to the airport and just off the Western Express Highway that leads out of the city to Ahmedabad. It is adjacent to the Mithi river, now no more than a dirty polluted nallah but once a river that was used for transport and fishing. The river flows from the lakes in Mumbai's hinterland to the sea at Mahim, and separates what is called the island city, or south Mumbai, from the mainland or suburbs.
Today you would have a hard time thinking of this filthy stream as a river. It carries tonnes of industrial and municipal effluent and its width has been drastically reduced by construction debris dumped along its route. Worse yet, the river was diverted to make space for Mumbai's spanking new business district, the Bandra Kurla complex, despite strong objections from environmentalists.
PHOTO: AP
Mumbai has had to pay the price for this flagrant indifference to the Mithi river that acted as a natural safety valve, carrying excess rainwater into the sea and absorbing seawater at times of high tide. Now it can do neither. So on July 26, when very heavy rain in the river's catchment area brought down a higher volume of water, and the high tide also tried to enter its mouth, the Mithi overflowed, carrying with it all the filth that had been dumped in it. As a result, areas along its route were worst affected, with water levels rising to 15 feet. The water rose so suddenly, that scores of people were caught off guard. People sitting in cars, thinking they were safe, drowned because they could not get out. In buses, people had to scamper to the top of the bus to escape the rising water. Many housing colonies saw ground floor flats being inundated. Those who were not quick enough, or could not swim, got sucked under the rising water.
The abuse of the Mithi river symbolises the problem that Mumbai faces. To satisfy the greed of builders and developers, successive governments have turned a blind eye to the natural checks and balances that cities need. Thus, the coastal regulation zone rules are violated, thereby changing the pattern of the tides. Green and no-development zones have been thrown open for development. Areas marked for parks and open spaces have been built upon. What little open space the city now has is just not enough to absorb heavy rain. Add to this an ancient drainage system. Funds for upgrading it sit in the government's coffers but are not used.
The story of July 26 is of resilience and bravery by ordinary people and neglect and inefficiency by the administration. More than 400 people died in Mumbai. This should never be repeated. But it will if the administration fails to learn from this disaster — that the real tragedy is Mumbai's development model, one that cares little for nature or for ordinary people, one that thinks of gloss more than substance.
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