It's been 11 years since then, but the memories of 26th of July, 2005 Mumbai deluge are still fresh. Back then, as a student, I still remember how much I enjoyed rains just as any other kid would. But 26th of July changed it completely.
Just as any other usual day, I left my home in Borivali for college in the morning. It usually took me around 2 hours to reach my college in Nerul, which was around 50 odd kms from my house. My college, well it was not just a college, but a campus sprawling over 20 acres, with over 15 institutions including medical and engineering, over ten thousand students, a full-sized cricket ground and a hill in the background added to the picturesque.
But only a few students would turn up daily to attend the classes. Attendance used to be usually on the lower side, not many would turn up to attend classes but preferred to either take up some job or visit court and assist some senior lawyer. Though I never took my graduation seriously, I went to college daily.
As usual, on 26th July, after my classes, went to library to get some book issued, enjoyed a cup of tea with my friends (a tea that would power me for the next ten hours) and started on my return journey. Mumbai was under a wet spell and it was already pouring since morning, and as any other Mumbaikar, I was a bit concerned about the status of Mumbai locals, the lifeline of Mumbai. Those were the days when the mobile revolution was still far away and there was no one in my group who had a mobile, it was till then considered a luxury. I had some friends who accompanied me from Nerul to Kurla and thereafter moved towards their destination and I continued my journey towards Borivali. Every Mumbaikar knows that the lifeline of Mumbai comprises of the Western, the Central and the Harbour line services, and I was fortunate enough to travel through all of them daily. I reached Kurla at around quarter to three, but by then the intensity of rains had increased. Though I usually preferred to take a fast local for Dadar but on that fateful day I took a slow train from Kurla for Dadar. The journey was interrupted many times with the train halting in the middle mostly due to waterlogging between Sion and Matunga. It took around 30 minutes to reach Dadar, though the scheduled journey was of only 11 minutes. At around quarter past three, I reached Dadar. I switched over to the Western line. Fortunately, a fast local for Borivali was scheduled on the indicator. I immediately rushed to the platform to catch the train, only to find that the trains were running 10-15 minutes behind schedule. As soon as the train arrived, I boarded it and heaved a sigh of relief. After halting for sometime, the train started to move and covered some distance before grinding to a halt at the next signal. The train was stranded between Dadar and Matunga Rd. The halt was a bit unusual as there was no movement for the next 15-20 minutes. After some inquiry, as we all feared, we realized that due to waterlogging at Mahim station, the trains would not not move further. The coach was not much crowded. Some co-passengers jumped out of the train onto the tracks and started to walk towards Matunga. There were some elderly people as well who preferred to stay back. After about a long and depressing wait for half an hour, I decided to jump out and move forward. Never did I realize that it would become an unforgettable walk to my home for my life.
The distance from Matunga to Bandra is around three and a half kilometers, and I decided to walk all the way to Bandra in the hope that there would be no disruptions on the network beyond Bandra. I did try to inquire about the status, but to no avail. There were no announcements at the stations either about the status. There were many trains standing one behind the other on all the four tracks. Finally, after an hour long walk, through knee high water and a bridge over the infamous Mithi river that was flowing well above the danger mark, I reached Bandra only to find a sea of people on the platforms waiting for trains to move forward. By then, I realized that the walk was not yet over. I decided to continue to walk in the hope of reaching some safer location from where I might get a local or a bus to Borivali. There were thousands of people who were walking along the railway tracks, including school kids as well as senior citizens. The downpour was very heavy and I was already drenched. I used to carry an umbrella with me but on that day it was worthless to use. I had a bag in which I had some books and notes alongwith some money and few documents. But I realized that they too were soaked. I crossed the Milan subway, which wad completely submerged under water. At around 6 in the evening, I reached Ville Parle station. By that time I was feeling empty as I had taken nothing for last 5 hours. But there was nothing to eat at any of the stalls as there was no raw material left with them, not even drinking water. With little options and some hope, I continued to walk and finally reached Andheri at half-past six. There were some stalls that were selling some snacks. I tried to catch hold of something for eating, but in vain. There were too many people ahead of me and fighting at the stalls to get hold of the eatables and I was too tired to participate. I even went outside but the roads outside station were flooded. I had no other option left. There were no signs of any train movement as well, I decided to move further north towards Borivali. By then, I had covered half of the total distance between Dadar and Borivali in about three hours. Though the walk was tough and had to walk through almost waist high water at some locations, the weather was a blessing in disguise and a motivation for me. By the time I crossed Goregaon, it turned dark. And the intensity had also decreased by then.
I was almost exhausted till the time I reached Malad and was walking on an empty stomach for over five hours. But as the end neared, I was able to gather enough energy to continue for the last leg of my walk. By around 10 in the night, I reached Borivali. And fortunately, the BEST services in Borivali continued unaffected. I got a bus to my house and finally at around half-past ten, reached my destination.
I was almost starving by then. I immediately searched for something to eat and was fortunate enough to find some fruits. The afternoon meal meant for me finally served my appetite. My grandfather, who was a consultant then for a company had not returned by then and there was no way to find out his location as the phone line was dead. The local cable network was also out of service and I was literally cut off from outside world and had no way to find out what all happened throughout the day. I did not realize when I fell asleep.
The next morning I woke up only to find that newspaper would not be delivered. But fortunately, the phone line was re-activated. I tried to call some of my family members but failed. I switched on the television, and to my surprise the cable network resumed. Immediately, I tuned to news channels to find out the state of affairs. Little did I realize the gravity of the rains that had brought Mumbai to a halt. As per the reports, the weather station at Santacruz recorded 944mm of rains on the 26th July, a record for Mumbai of highest rainfall received on a single day. Coupled with high-tide on that day, it brought havoc to Mumbai. The water did not move out which resulted in waterlogging at many spots, at some places as high as 12 feet. Over a million people were affected, and thousands were missing. There were reports of over a thousand people feared dead. Many were forced to shift to safer locations as their houses were completely submerged in water. My grandfather returned by evening of 27th July. He also narrated what all he had to go through. It was literally a nightmare. The rains that day were not just limited to Mumbai or Konkan area but heavy rainfall was recorded almost throughout Maharashtra. For us the situation returned to normal in few days, but for many, who lost their dear ones, the situation would never be the same again.
Many disaster-proof plans were prepared thereafter by the local as well as state machinery and millions of rupees invested to avoid repetition of this calamity. But even after 11 years, it seems we are yet to learn any lesson. Though we lesser mortals can never challenge Vice Major, but, being an optimist, I still hope that someday, we would grow and prepare ourselves to handle such disasters in far better way then we handle them now.
(Dedicated to spirit of all those who tirelessly work day and night to keep 'Aamchi Mumbai' moving and to those who left their house for the last time on the unfortunate day never to return back).
