Water Extreme!

Rain, rain go away

Come again another day

Our Jonny wants to play!

Actually no. Our Jonny doesn’t want to play. All he wants to do is to go home and be with his family, his surroundings; because alike many other Jonnys, our Jonny was stuck in chest deep water. The merriment and excitement of the drizzle had long gone. Now what shaped in was the immense fear of the roaring thunder and the gargantuan rain drops.

It had been around 400 minutes now and the life had been completely dark and stagnant except for the rising water levels. Jonny had lost the sense of belongings. All he could feel was a glob in his front pocket and another one in the back pocket. He just assumed that his valet and mobile had not slipped out. There was a nagging prick on his left thigh which suggested that the keys were intact.

It seemed like the nature had complete disregard for compassion and why would it have any. Off lately this is what it had received from humans. It was like vengeance falling apart. They say that revenge is the dish best served cold, and indeed cold it was. The strong winds made the wind wane epileptic.

It had all started when Jonny had punched out early that afternoon. While entering the movie hall he had seen only lilliputian water collections. Their growth chart was tremendous. From toe tip deep clear stream of water to a muddy puddle; then a small lake with little islands of concrete on which people were tip toeing like a ballet dancer. A lake, a river and finally the water coalesced with Arabian.

When he came out of the theatre, he was greeted by grey tinted sky, obviously heavy rains and scanty luminous. The traffic was typical Mumbai traffic, crowded like an ant heap but no one was honking the horns. No one seemed to be in hurry and there must have been hundreds of automobiles but they were mute. Just the natural crackling sound of water thuds echoed.

As the commotion increased, incomprehensible sounds started making sense. The flustered and perplexed faces were greeted with bits and pieces of information which concluded to only one thing that there was water logging everywhere. The electronic maps only glowed red lines. The signals were pathetic and even if the call got through the conversation was stuttering.

Jonny started flipping through the mental address book and narrowed a safe house for night. It was a mere business acquaintance whom he had met at a lunch meeting in the recent past. They couldn’t crack the deal at that time. Jonny was skeptical whether it was a good idea to barge in uncalled, but it was a desperate attempt. It was the only logistically feasible place to go nonetheless 3 miles away.

Jonny folded his trouser knee length, uncuddled his umbrella and with tentative steps entered the mud pool. He joined the long queue of people walking one after the other. When the water got deeper the line dipped and when the water got shallow the line rose creating a little Mexican wave. Only if the people could maintain this disciple when rainless; Jonny wondered.

The water currents daunted higher and higher. From ankle to knees and then from knees to waist, making each step heavier than the previous one. The linear convoy abruptly turned left at a point where a slender stick emerged from the water; a red cloth tied to it. This subtle hint was marking a grave danger of open man hole. A middle-aged man, roughened looks was helping and guiding the people to steer pass the open danger safely. A colloquial abuse to his locality mates suggested that he was there for at least 3 hours now and needed a replacement. He grabbed Jonny’s hand in the Roman handshake and helped him forward. Momentarily their eyes met and Jonny’s grip tightened in appreciation. Only a warm smile reflected from other side.

The walk was getting tough as the water was above the diaphragmatic level and little further one would only see the floating heads. Two youngsters were standing and giving continuous instructions “HOLD THE ROPE. WHATEVER HAPPENS, DON’T LEAVE THE ROPE.” A fistful thick shipping rope was tied to the tree bark some 200 yards away and these boys had tied the other end of the rope to their waist and then to the adjacent tree. The water currents swayed the people in one direction or the other; pretty much like the wet clothes hanged to get dry. The sore hands gripped the tentaculate rope, it ached, it burnt but life clanged to it. No one left the rope.

The saucer like road ended and the wrath of the drifting water settled a bit. The umbrellas were long gone. The senses of the blind legs were heightened. Each foreign touch was analysed with fear; may be someone’s shoe, ragged clothes, a twig, carcass of some rodent, may be water snake, the permutations were countless.

There aside in a small blue hash back car were two youngsters dripped in the fog of merry marijuana and crazy cocaine. The party had begun when the water was just touching the lug of holes of the wheels. The rain had gate crashed the party long back but the cocktail of booze, drugs and hard rock music had made them stuporous. To conceal their nefarious activities the windows were tight shut. The slumber party got over when the air conditioning duct got chocked. Suffocation woke them to horror of being trapped in water filled grave. They tried to open the door, they couldn’t. They tried to break the window, they couldn’t. The tried to scream for help, but the sound waves never travelled. Helplessly they continued tapping and kicking the wind shield and screaming frantically. Luckily someone noticed and soon a mob gathered. After about dozen strikes of the dislodged pavement block, the window gave away. The young adults were rescued. Jonny could never forget their scared faces.

Jonny wished that he was the part of the mob that saved the kids, or like the guys with the rope. May be at the giving end of distributing compassion. Like a group of people who were offering tea and small packets of biscuits and words of consolation. The people had opened their homes so that stranded travellers could relieve themselves; especially the females. The give and take were so overwhelming that both the giver and the receiver had moist eyes.

The herculean human efforts to reach the destination had failed. Now what remained were the survival instincts and prayers. The nature had showed its veto power but time held its trump card too. Every good or bad things, they do end eventually. Nothing is perpetual, change is inevitable. The tables tilted. The sun smiled once and the rainy anger melted. The ocean again started accepting the water. A small whirlpool and the water began to recede at snail’s speed. Finally it was dawn.

The communication and transportation were still limping. The wet money in the pockets had no use. It was again a long painful walk back home but it ached less this time. Jonny reached railway station, the stampede shook the bridge and the tracks were still unseen. Jonny started to walk on the tracks, crossed a railway bridge meticulously. He doesn’t remember how he came on the road. He took a lift from a biker, triple seat and somehow reached closer to that coveted thing called home.

When he reached home water marks suggested that there was good 4 feet water in his house. He had never thought that water would actually invade his property. He rang the bell, luckily the electricity had resumed to work by then. There was no reply and with each passing moment Jonny was getting apprehensive and worried. His wife, his baby, where were they? Had the water extreme had engulfed them. He hurried out of the wing and ran towards the back door. He got hold of the grill of the window and pulled himself up. He called for his wife; the empty walls echoed back. The tiles were broken, the sofa had toppled and the dirt lay all around. The lump of fear floated in his throat. He again called for his wife. 

This time he got the reply. 

The neighbours from the third floor replied “relax Jonny, they are safe over here. We were worried about you. Now come up quickly and take rest.” This was followed by the child’s happy giggle.

The society’s janitor was cleaning the society campus, lot many debris and muck.

Jonny asked him “why are you working?”

“Sir I myself was stuck in the waters. I stayed on the staircase here. I was sheltered, fed and was kept safe. The place where I stay is still water logged. I would be able to go only by later this afternoon.” He said

“And your family, are they safe?” Jonny asked.

“Yes sir, they are. Spoke to them in the morning.” He replied.

Jonny opened his bag removed a plastic bag from it. It had an extra packet of biscuit which that man had given him with force yesterday night when his stomach was growling. They both sat on the bench. Jonny offered the biscuits to the janitor. He took one. Both sat there unmoved, unspoken. Jonny’s child continued giggling and chanting ‘Da da da!’ from the window atop.