Still raining in Delhi

More than a month since I last wrote. In that time, it has been raining constantly in Delhi. Much worse downpour than the one mentioned in my last post.

Haven't seen this much rain in a long time in the last 15 years, a colleague remarked at this morning's editorial meeting.

River Yamuna - which resembles a dirty stream most of the time - is flowing above the danger mark. The civic infrastructure in Delhi is creaking under the pressure of nature. Flooded roads. Traffic jams. Outbreak of monsoon-related illnesses. Even in the neighbouring, millennium city of Gurgaon, the living rooms of some posh addresses have turned into paddling pools and the roads resemble dirt-tracks in some Indian village.

Even the Commonwealth Games have not been spared. Conspiracy theorists suggest it is nature's way of getting back at the reported corruption in the organising of this Games. Supporters suggest the nature is helping with rigorous quality tests for the Commonwealth Games infrastructure!!

Civil authorities are confused. If they spend time sorting out problems raised by Delhi's residents, work related to the Commonwealth Games suffers. If work related to the Games suffers, the nation's prestige takes a battering.

The other day, I took a friend for a lunch to Connaught Place. This pride of Delhi has been like a war-zone for over a year. Municipal authorities wanted to turn it into a pedestrians' paradise, but turned it into a hazard-perception game, instead.

The only missing link were subways, connecting Connaught Place to the arterial roads outside. The subways have been around for long, but used sparingly because they are dirty and provide shelter to unsavoury characters. Municipal authorities put these "under repair" too, leaving pedestrians with only one option - sprint through the traffic to get to Connaught Place.

My friend is in her sixties and doesn't have the athletic prowess to master this course. So, getting to the restaurant in Connaught Place's outer circle and then making her way to an airline office took two hours - instead of the 25 minutes or so before the municipal authorities started their work.

At home, our little daughter is enjoying Delhi rain. Unlike the all-season drizzle of the UK, rains in Delhi follow months of heat and feels nice on your skin. And the little one is making the most of it. If it is raining on a weekend, she is likely to be found drenching herself and dancing in the balcony.

Would have loved to post the pictures and videos of her in the rain, but one has to be careful with such things on the internet.

There is something endearing about her fascination and love for rains. As a child, I used to be excited about monsoons. There was something fun about reaching school soaked, getting permission to take the shoes/socks and walking barefoot in classrooms.

Not anymore. Schools expect parents to bring in their wards clean and dry. And the grown-ups just wishes that it stopped raining. Or that it rained at convenient times, like when everyone is asleep.

The trouble is there is no planning in this urban construction boom, a friend's father said over the weekend. A city like Delhi generally needs a sewage system and a network of storm drains. If you look around, storm drains in every locality have been covered up by ramps, tiny gardens or parking space. Since these drains are not visible, no one cleans or desilts them. So when it rains, the drains clog up and sewage system isn't capable of draining out a sudden and massive downpour.

The man should know. He spent his working life with Delhi's main municipal body and helped plan some of the areas.If the sanctioning authorities had their way, every conceivable inch of green space would have a building on it. And the malls - don't forget the malls - as residents in all localities seem to want them. They recently proposed that half the public park next to our house be given up for a shopping complex. It only stopped because the residents challenged it.

So what about the storm-drains? Are the local residents doing something about it? Not exactly. I am ashamed to say this, but the storm-drain even outside my own house is covered by a ramp.

Rain Rain Go Away

Now that's certainly the Delhi monsoon I remember.

Got delayed at work on Monday and - as I was stepping out - a colleague mentioned "heavy rains outside".

The first instinct was of this being badly-timed humour. After three hours of drizzle that brought Delhi to its knees last week, the weather here has been really hot and humid.

The clouds have floated through and teased in several areas, but failed to oblige.

Monday was different, though. The main reception of the building was flooded and people were reluctant to step out in the heavy downpour and lashing winds.

A colleague had kindly offered me a lift, but there was one problem. The driver was waiting outside and the cops were pestering him to move the vehicle away.

In the 30 seconds it took us to reach the car, both of us were totally drenched. Thankfully, neither of us stepped into a manhole - whose cover had been removed by someone keen on allowing water a way out.

The journey back home seemed like a replay of last week. The streets were flooded and vehicles carefully lined up to navigate through the least flooded bit.

In some places, an entire tree or some of its branches had bowed down before the might of the wind. With traffic cops missing (they too are humans, after all), people jostled for space along the narrow corridors - resulting in huge jams.

Luckily, the cops' impatience with the driver proved helpful for us. We managed to make most of our journey without getting stuck anywhere.

Growing up in Delhi, monsoons would be so much fun. After a long hot summer, the arrival of clouds and rain was amazing. The soil would smell divine when the rain poured down, and the leaves on the tree looked greener.

Back then, monsoon would be a month-long affair and a massively anticipated and enjoyed time of the year. It would rain heavily very often, and the possibility of getting caught up in shower was high. Also high was the possibility of the two-wheeler stalling as water entered its exhausted on the flooded roads.

None of that was a cause of worry, though. A quick change of clothes and one was ready to savour a hot cup of tea and sizzling pakoras and contemplate one could bunk college next day and enjoy the rain.

If you are home, watching rain fall down is still fun. The soil still smells magical and the cool breeze feels wonderful against your skin. And those droplets falling from tree-leaves - hours after the rain stopped - look beautiful.

But in the intervening 10 years, the sun has become hotter, the summer longer and the rains rarer in this city of a million dreams. Hundreds and thousands of new flats have come up as the city's green cover takes cover. Hundreds and thousands of new cars have come on to the roads as the government shied away from its responsibility of providing good public transport.

Rather than curb this relentless construction or the insane growth in privately-owned vehicles, the authorities have focused on easing the movement of people and vehicles by building more flyovers - many shaped like bowls.

When it rains, the water starts collecting at the bottom of the bowls. Soon, the level starts rising - slowing down or cutting off the flow of traffic.

People blame the authorities. The authorities blame some other authorities. Those authorities then blame the pressure of Commonwealth Games. Somewhere along the line, someone says "I am sorry" and hopes the matter will come to a rest.

Which is what mostly happens. The other night, a senior Delhi minister expressed his apology - with a qualifier that it is difficult to predict which areas will be flooded, as different places get flooded every year.

If you ask the citizens of Delhi (and a rather ignorant and inarticulate one was on the panel as their representative in that TV discussion), the rains aren't that clever. They flood the same places, year after year.

But neither the TV presenter nor the representative of Delhi's people thought it was worth putting that to the minister.

It seems neither the government nor the citizens are willing to admit their complicity in making the situation what it is.

For everyone, rains bring uncomfortable questions. They have got used to the heat, with air conditioned offices, homes and cars. The Delhi government claims it is a "power surplus city". The citizens have boosted this with private power back-up.

Sounds peculiar, but of all the friends commuting back from work, only one enjoyed the rain - and he was travelling in the Delhi Metro!!

Anyway, the rain had eased by the time I got closer to home. Last week, I had to get off my auto rickshaw because someone holding a religious function had erected a tent in the middle of a service lane.

On Monday, it seemed much easier and faster to walk than negotiate the distance in the car.

The only thing I was dreading was the power supply. Last week, the electricity company had switched off our power supply for more than three hours. An automated message on their helpline said "This is for your own safety and the safety of the electrical equipment".

Thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case on Monday.