For the speechless
It rained heavily throughout the night. There were loud noises being played in the sky with all the psychedelic light effects in place. Whoever the DJ was, she was doing a terrific job of not letting anyone sleep downstairs. Anyway, in the morning, as usual, I woke up at 6.30 and left for office within the next 45 minutes. It continued to pour; my white umbrella was being tested to its limits. I couldn’t book an autorickshaw or a cab or a bike taxi as nobody was willing to ferry into our neighbourhood. Being somebody who has breathed his most in Bombay, I decided to walk to the main colony gate hoping to catch a passerby auto or something. I didn’t wear my sandals.
A big mistake.
None of the autos were willing to stop. Mainly because they knew something I didn’t. And to make things worst, at the point of time, I didn’t know this either.
Even the main entry gate was flooded. I thought, maybe, I’ll be able to hail an auto on the main road.
Another big mistake.
15 minutes hence, my shoes were drowning and jeans, wet up to my knees. I should have aborted the mission and returned home. But no, being somebody who has proved time and again that he is a restless moron, I decided to keep walking ahead on the periphery of the road. After all, how many Indians adhere to footpath unless they are forced by waterlogged roads? Personally, I avoid roads because I am paranoid about getting hit by a moving vehicle and dying on a road that won’t be named after me.
Speaking of dying in a freak accident, while walking, soaking wet, a thought ran through my head. 13 years ago, during the Great Flood in Mumbai, several unfortunate people died because the municipal corporation didn’t bother to conduct their seasonal manhole test before the monsoon. As a consequence, people simply disappeared into gutters only to emerge days later somewhere else — bloated and unforgivably betrayed by the (lack of) infrastructure.
So, I was wondering what if I were step onto a loose manhole and sink into the flushing sewage beneath. My wife would think that I went to office while my colleagues would assume that I must have taken an unusual leave thanks to the weather. My parents would probably believe that I forgot to call them due to unavoidable circumstances. My brother would be busy with his lectures in college. Ranga wouldn’t give a fuck because he doesn’t know how else to be. When in reality, I’ve asphyxiated beyond reason and my body would be letting in dirty water and other foreign particles into all the possible orifices.
Simply put, I’d make a terrible photo finish.
Going back to that morning, I kept walking until I’ve covered about two kilometers from home and stood in front of a fancy school. That’s where I saw the true extent of the damage downpour has done to the road. The vehicles, be it those yellow school buses or bigass cars unique to Gurgaonvasis, were all quite literally floating. Which reminded me again why Gurgaon is a wannabe city. Instead of getting its basics (read: sewage system) right first, it focuses too much on first world projects. Barely an hour of rain or so and the whole city is pressing SOS buttons, especially in the traffic.
That’s also when I realized that I won’t be able to commute and it’s best to retract. On my way back home, I noticed a cow and its little one trudging on the other side of the road. Since moving north, this bovine presence is somewhat a part of my everyday vista. I like the way these creatures are so docile and yet so stubborn—highway or otherwise. They are clearly scared of the honking vehicles but they stick to their calm demeanor and act as if they know what they are doing. Whenever I watch them walk by the side of the road, I wonder where are they going. Which meeting have they got scheduled for themselves?
On that very note, I started pondering where was this mother-son duo headed to. Like mine, their legs were submerging and both seemed bothered by the rain. Also, the mother was hurt on the fore and limping measurably. The son, with no option of overtaking her, was moving very slowly behind her. Wherever she was going, he was following. No questions asked. It’s at this stage of my morning adventure, I understood that we are pawns to the nature. What we call climate is nothing but an instrument to dictate the course of our lives. We might say that our species is at the top of the chain/pyramid/bullshit/etc but when the planet wants to remind us who is the boss, she does it perfectly well.
My concerns for those two speechless beings overtook my concerns for the electronic devices in my backpack. It’s a weird concern, if you think about it. It’s not that the little one would be sprinting like a horse someday but it’s worth imagining the possibility of him being slow because his learning days were slower. For some reason, he’ll spend days, if not weeks, walking painfully slowly behind his suffering mother. His body might presume that this is the normal course of growth. Love bounds them, no doubt, but you can see that the child is suffering too.
Just like we are, along with our ailing mother nature.
