26th July, 2005
The 26th of July is ironically my wife Anisha's birthday but also a day where my own birth family and I lost everything. A paradoxical love-loss affair in motion. A highly graphic day, for an impressionable mind, most people who were children grew up to understand the significance of adversity in a man's life. I was actively present in the scene; I'm writing it as a 25-year-old through the details and vividness of what I remember of the cataclysmic event.
Raging Waters
Psalm 18:17
"He sent from on high, He took me;
He drew me out of many waters."
This was a breath-taking, rather breath-staking event of my childhood. I was barely an 8-year young lad.
Breath staking 'cause I'm sure most people were breathless through this fiery-floody ordeal as the stakes were uncontrollably high.
And 8-year young? 'cause I looked 4, but anyway.
There was something eerie about that day. The sun didn't seem to prevail over the gloom, blanketing Mumbai and little did anyone know it was time to brace for impact. For this one day, the double-edged Bombay, the volatile city of hyper-growth or hyper-disaster as is your destiny from the Almighty, appeared victorious with a surprise test, a gruesome circumstance, under which some were undeterred even when reduced to rubble like my family, and some were overcome even in their palatial abodes. The only viable currency that day was the will to keep on flapping and somehow float.
The systems that we gloat in, the billion-dollar infrastructure was left violently shook and the tremors brought anguish in our hearts, but we needed to take courage and paddle through.
This time the dark clouds brought forth the sea, as I may call it, the tail wagged the dog, and great was our anguish. For that one day, we were not 7 islands conjoined living a consequence of development, we were rather one with the filthy part of the sea. (I'd like to remember the water was only from the sea, but it would be a little white lie, so here goes the truth- it was the rain water harvested by the gutter into our houses).
But me, I didn't know the panoramic visual of what was truly happening, an 8-year young boy, got thrown into his school bus earlier than usual. The conductor of my school bus probably enjoyed giving me no proper explanation as he was busy picking other kids and loading us up in the bus like a bag of potatoes as he knew things were taking a bad turn, he probably couldn't tell the difference between his sweat and the rain, a dire unveiling of events.
So, all of us potatoes, rode on this bus that appeared to be foolishly impersonating a ship, but this was our only salvation plan, and our bus was in better shape than most luxury cars that day. To my surprise, I got left a little distance away from my society gate, I had to walk another kilometer to reach my gate. I happily walked through ankle level water as it continued to pour onto my tiny skull, but I felt most accomplished on my way back than any of my previous schooling years up to the 3rd grade. It was me and my God, but God didn't let me in on this secret as yet, he didn't burst my pompous bubble of me being super able to cut through any wave like a human Jetski. He kept my idea of self that day, as I worked my way back home.
So here I was, the bus left me and I'm pretty sure the driver didn't use his rear-view mirror to see what became of me, as he was under pressure to reach all of us home through the path of least resistance and he had to accomplish it in a way he found best, and it meant leaving us somewhere close to our destinations if not accurately at our destination, this was his test for the day, other than to man up once again to his own household which he had to attend to post his duty.
I flashed through the water and got to my gate. My father is a government employee and he has his accommodation around his workplace, which is quite a rare occurrence, rather a non occurrence in Mumbai, where interchanging random hugs and handshakes is an everyday way of life, the trains and buses rock to make new people brush shoulders to become daily travel buddies, and speak about their daily conquests to work and back, which is sometimes more tedious than the actual job itself.
My society is probably the only patch of green other than the nature parks in the city that inhabit great flora and fauna, migratory birds and all sorts of reptiles. It's a low-lying 18-acre house of green, leafy habitation. The good part is the greenery and extensive breathing room in the space where every tile costs more than most people would find appeasing and maintaining every tile is another costly premium. Thankfully, the Almighty had it covered, and we occupied our habitation unhindered except for a few eye openers like this event.
EMI's and Vada-pavs are a must in this bustling city of ecstatic and passionate zombies who love the city that doesn't let them sleep, it's a rather one-sided affair that most people are okay with.
Back to my solitary walk from a random drop-off far from the gate. I walked in a rather clean uniform for a disaster-stricken afternoon as the eye of the storm was held back by the Creator to let me and many unsuspecting little one's like me to pass through. Since I was 200 meters away from the gate, I gave myself 2 check points to get me going - one check point when I reach my familiar scope of influence which would be my society gate and one when I get home. I did this to feel a sense of achievement when I evaded the multitude of stray dogs who weren't too nice to kids in uniforms. But this time even they swam away to some sort of refuge but sadly many animals lost their lives in this competitively crowded city. To my horror, the way after the gate was the real stun gun anyway, it wasn't the dogs, it was levels higher this time. The greens that I told you about, was now a water-clad pool, but it was thankfully still up to my knees, and I could make the run to my home which was a good half a kilometer within the expanse of the society. I walked through somehow. If it would happen now I'd follow King David's blueprint to imagine myself being upheld by the Creator in this knee-deep water which was spread about farther then I'd like it to be. The words of Psalm 23 would be the apt set of words to encapsulate my thoughts,
Psalms 23:4 "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me;
Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me." These amplifying words can calm any storm in your mind, the storm is better of out there rather than within you. But as a young boy I probably blurted out "God, please save me in my pre-puberty high pitch voice." It worked just fine back then.
Moving on, I walked halfway, and what I most feared befell me. I have a fear of heights that I can't control and waters that I can't see the bottom off, and the second of the two befell me. In a spirit of fear, I saw a little snake look at me, it was a dark green water snake, probably non-poisonous, yet to my trembling heart, it was adding to the fear. Thankfully it was still daylight, but I would still do without the snake if it were upto me. The snake was doing its regular swimming about, and I intercepted it, me and the snake both felt a presence other than ourselves in an empty street turned riverbed, and we both ran in opposite directions afraid of the other. The snake swam away, and I fluttered away slowly, which in my head was super-fast. This was the first loving wakeup call from God that things weren't as rosy as I imagined. Once I survived this snake and realized it was more scared than me, I felt like I was the man suddenly, and gingerly returned to my course back home. This latter half, after the snake should have gotten me more confident and at ease, since I survived it, but it was heavily raining, with lightning and thundering, that there was only time for one snake acquaintance for the day, as more would leave me defeated to somehow get to the edge of the colony where my building held its foundations. I got home, it was my Mum and me, she got back earlier in the day as she had an earlier shift in the school she was a teacher at, and suddenly we were 2 of us nervously waiting for the other 2 members of our family to make it back. It was early evening the sun was still being skeptical to shine as the dark clouds owned the sky, bursting their cries out, plummeting to the earth we shared, within the boundaries of this one-of-a-kind city called Mumbai.
Mumbai Mumbai Gets our adrenaline High Heavy-laden infrastructure That the bridges are "Over fly"
By now, the electricity was out, and Mumbai's pride was snuffed out like a wick. The city and its inhabitants gripped through a literal dark reality. By now, my dad was yet to leave his office which was a ballpark away from our house, but he had his own hurdle race, with the felling of ancient trees that were destined to drop down this evening. I peeked out of the window as he walked through shin level water, as he had to evade a tree blocking the way. One of us found a higher place to house the Singaporean pet turtle Turte who was ironically the only one having the expertise to swim through this dark waters. He felt more at home this evening and we felt like a plus-one in our own house, but anyway. Fast forward, through many a tense, discerning and decisive moments, my dad decided we need to walk through the now deep waters and somehow set up base in a higher place in the society. He decided to head to the in-house hostel meant for the government staff that possibly visit for a short stint in the colony and require a place to stay. This time since our house was rejecting us, the Almighty held grace in a hostel showing us the fragility of humans thinking we own anything based on a paper, but in reality, we're all renting out our Creator's fields, that he freely provided all of us with, but we decided to tax the living lights out of each other, under the pretext of the "greater good." We got whatever we had in our hand and went through the dark, in a forest-like colony. My father carried me and off we descended into the dark waters. It was us against the rain, cloud and thick darkness. I felt like it was my own personal exodus through the water that didn't seem to back off. Our house that my dad worked immensely hard to put together was hanging in the balance and there was nothing he could do in this moment. At this temporary fix of a stay, lights off, beds warm, we had a broad place to recline in. We were nervous as we forgot his turtle back home and we didn't know what became of our little pet that night.
But to all storms, there is the Creator's grace that clears out all darkness of the preceding night. The covenantal light of the sun shone once again and there were some swimming and rafting in the waters that still showed no sign of recession. My parents went back home and to their utter distress, the house was soiled, ground up, there was sewage waste all over. It was a catastrophe. The only good news there was, was our pet turtle knew his home through the water and he decided he'd stay to host his masters once we're back. Turte was recovered from the dung but the rest was destroyed. My Father now opted for the next best, and only available option. He, along with his friends began charting out a plan to clean the house to restore it back to a habitable place for humans. They got to it as we were shifted to someplace else for the rest of this unforgiving tenure, that was bleak for most living near the Arabian coast. Over the process of time, this storm's eye was gouged out and the city saw new victorious sunrises and clear skies. The cloud burst had nothing more to gush us with and the rest of the city began building back from the ruins left behind.
A few more sleepless nights of building, a few more sleepless nights of destruction, this vivid city has its own cyclonic cycle of round the clock events. The Sea has it's warning winds from time to time, but the city is continuing to be the object of a one sided affair with it's inhabitants. A love affair everyone's okay with, but as per me it's a dangerous love affair, and I sometimes think is it worth my life?
For me the answer was NO.
I thought I loved this city, but I really don't.
So, I let Mumbai go, but it will always be a landscape of its kind, a training ground for the masses immigrating to this apparent "land of opportunity" from different parts of the world.
A simulation of vivid experiences, wrecking ball experiences, that always require a mightier heart than times past. The city that is forced to love its inhabitants back, by the spirit that is somehow never crushed.
A bad city, that's terrible on the days it has some or any power.
The city that never really goes.
The deathly city of Mumbai.
Isaiah 43:2
"When you pass through water, I will be with you; Through streams, They shall not overwhelm you. When you walk through fire, You shall not be scorched; Through flame, It shall not burn you."
To conclude, these words for me poetically sums up the entire story above.
Pause and ponder, if you'd like;
The Unfazed of the world
Unfazed through the dark Looking for a Crack in the wall Would grow it into a wide gate Patiently waiting for destiny's call. A commission ahead of me Divine purpose to touch the sea floor. Scale the beds of water in a breath Keep knocking on the underwater door. It's a breath from a bit Drowning man with a pain in his chest These overwhelming emotions are raging Unfazed aiming for a treetop nest. The water's lost its power Don't drown with its enthralling vibe Visualizing the circumstances to be weaker The spiritual power of the Almighty I imbibe. The depths of the sea Always a slave to my Master Most High Sometimes Unfazed I walk through water, Sometimes Unfazed I fly.
