As a contract technical writer, I was deployed onsite in Mumbai and stayed in a paying guest accommodation for three months.

One evening, it was time to leave the office however, everyone was standing and talking in hushed tones.  Many looked at me and turned away as if hiding something from me. No one said anything to me, nor did they ask me how I would go home. Oblivious of what was happening, I continued to complete the task at hand. No one left the office; everyone was hanging around. I went to have a snack at 7 P.M., but there was nothing to eat.  The canteen boy said, “Due to torrential rains, there was a flood in Mumbai, and no transport was available to deliver the snacks. It was the 26 July floods, and I was in Malad at Mindspace……!!!

I’d noticed during the rainy season, that Mumbai folks carried an umbrella and a set of clothes, and they wore crocs to the office. Now I knew why. I was unprepared. I usually took an auto or bus to my PG on S.V. Road, about 4 km away. For the common man in Mumbai, 4 km is a short walk but on that fatal evening, I took 2.5 hours to cover that short distance.

Fortunately, it wasn’t raining when I stepped out of the office around 8 P.M., but there was neither an autorickshaw nor street lights. The main road was flooded and water was gushing down. I was wearing a salwar-kameez with a dupatta and had a handbag. My chappals were already soaked in the water. I tied my dupatta and saw men hanging out, smoking, or on the phone. I lifted my salwar and started walking tentatively against the water flow. I felt a tad hurt that no one told me about the floods nor offered any help.

This was the first time in my life that I was in the middle of the Mumbai floods; until then I had only seen floods on TV news and heard about it. I had heard so much about the service and helping nature of Mumbaikars that I assumed I’d get help. I’d also heard that during floods it’s safer to walk in the middle of the road to avoid potholes and drainage holes. The water was above my ankle, I took a deep breath and walked watching each step. I was the only one on the 4-lane 80 feet road. The street lights were blinking and I couldn’t fathom why no one else was on the road. I trudged through the water feeling tired, hungry, thirsty, and wet.

I might have walked for a kilometer and was delighted to see a shared autorickshaw arriving, it was full. Out of nowhere three people rushed out from the dark behind me and went over to the auto. One fellow hurriedly instructed them to board the auto and fit in quickly. I asked him if I could also fit in. He looked at the auto full of men, some almost hanging out, and then he looked at me regretfully. He asked me where I was going and I told him the name of my PG. He was in a hurry and replied that the PG was nearby only 3-4 km away but the others had to go to Borivali so they had to be rushed out immediately. To pep me up he said, “You will manage, keep walking straight, maybe another auto will pass by soon.” I nodded meekly; I looked at the overloaded auto rush away. I hung on to his words that another auto would pass by. I resumed walking carefully, looking at the road and every step. There was no traffic, water gushing on the road, darkness, silence, no tea stall, and no snack vendors. If I would have fallen down, the water would have carried me away and not a soul would have witnessed it. Not seeing people around added to my remorse. 

Later, the street lights became steadier, and I kept walking in the middle of the road. Time and again, I halted to look behind in the hope of an auto or bus. The distance was too much for me. I was tired, hungry, and wet. I was plodding. I raised my feet with difficulty, feeling hopeless and helpless. My tiredness was draining my positivity. I wanted to eat something and began imagining hawkers and tea stalls.

As if on cue, about half a kilometer away, I saw a boy roasting peanuts under a tree. Oh! What a relief!! I blessed him, my angel. I bought two packets of peanuts and sat on a stone nearby. Voila, diagonally opposite, was my PG. It was 10.30 pm, and the building was dark. I knew there would be nothing to eat inside the house, so the peanuts were my dinner. With the nuts inside me and an extra packet in my bag, I picked myself up with difficulty and climbed three floors to reach my room.  

Everyone else in the house was asleep. I wanted to cry but was too tired to do that. Grateful that I reached my room safely, I dried myself and snuggled into my bed, exhausted.

Soon, the cell phone rang, Gaurav from my office in Pune,

Gaurav: Madam how are you? I tried to reach you for some time, but the connectivity was weak. I could connect only now. Did you get caught in the rain?

Me: No, the rains have stopped, but the road is flooded. I walked back home, and I’m still alive and kicking. Reached my room safely.

Gaurav: Ahh! Good sleep well. How was your day?

Me, It was just another day. Good night.