I've never believed in that nonsense about the universe conspiring to make good things happen to/for me. Say that it's probably cooking up ghastly stuff against me and I'll wholeheartedly subscribe to that idea.
Maybe I was wrong.
I was inveigled into an early morning work meeting today. Trouble was that I was out of town over the weekend. However, I manfully attempted to make it for this jolly coven by taking a 6 am bus back into the city. Around 8:30 am, the bus shudders to a halt on the highway. Some convoluted mechanical issue meant that we'd have to be shipped off in other buses, depending on how many seats were available. In these situations, I can't help but admire the combative nature of old biddies and geezers. One minute, they'll be ensconced in their seats with the fixed resignation of old vegetables in the back of the fridge. The next, they'll be hotfooting it for spare buses like Spartans at the Battle of Thermopylae.
I waited by the side of the road, braving the rains for a goodish hour before getting into another bus. Barely 20 minutes later, it comes to an all too familiar halt. In another life, this kind of nonsense would trigger severe heartburn but things have changed significantly. Probably for the better, I might add. All I did was smile wryly, shrug my shoulders and watch the rain because here was no way in hell I was making this meeting. I had some damn good reasons too.
I exited the bus at Chembur to take the SCLR into BKC only to be stopped in my tracks by the scornful looks of the auto chaps who revealed that traffic on said road was terrible and good luck to me. Fortunately, a black & yellow cab stopped and we were off. The driver, a grizzled veteran, was rather irate about his previous ride. The passenger had hoodwinked him into driving into one of the by-lanes of King's Circle in the rain, which as any old salt knows, is the easiest way to experience submarine life. In any case, we carefully navigated the flooded Sion circle road and were on the interestingly named Agra road (he did not know why it was called that) when the driver suddenly began reminiscing about Terrible Tuesday 2005.
"This road... it rained here so heavily that day, a double-decker bus was submerged. I was stuck near Sion when my daughter, who lives in Kurla, called me and said her house was flooded. Luckily, she and the kids escaped to the local school. The water here was so high, a few people got trapped on the road... almost drowned. But I'm a good swimmer... so, I rescued them and swam 3 km along this road. As I was swimming, I passed the private cars that were parked here... the people inside... dressed in suits, dressed in good clothes... all dead... drowned, unable to get out of their cars. That's why my car doesn't have power windows in the back. Did you notice? If water enters the car and gets into the system, it all shuts down. These people did not even break down the windows of their cars to try and escape... truly, it's amazing how educated people lose their heads in these times... it's only the uneducated who have the presence of mind to know what to do. After dropping the people off at a safe spot, I came back... me and others broke the windows of the cars and hauled the bodies onto the bonnets and roofs... the police showed up soon after... they praised me so much... but for what? I told them that it may have been time for these poor people to die, but their bodies did not deserve to rot in the cars... there was so much water that day."
The silence in the cab after he'd finished speaking was only interrupted by the rain drumming relentlessly on the roof. This innocuous-looking man had nonchalantly described one of the bravest and most dignified acts I have ever heard of... and I'd never have met him if it weren't for the bus breakdowns. Neither would you. Like I said earlier, maybe I'm wrong about the universe after all.
Song for the moment: Holographic Universe - Thievery Corporation
Maybe I was wrong.
I was inveigled into an early morning work meeting today. Trouble was that I was out of town over the weekend. However, I manfully attempted to make it for this jolly coven by taking a 6 am bus back into the city. Around 8:30 am, the bus shudders to a halt on the highway. Some convoluted mechanical issue meant that we'd have to be shipped off in other buses, depending on how many seats were available. In these situations, I can't help but admire the combative nature of old biddies and geezers. One minute, they'll be ensconced in their seats with the fixed resignation of old vegetables in the back of the fridge. The next, they'll be hotfooting it for spare buses like Spartans at the Battle of Thermopylae.
I waited by the side of the road, braving the rains for a goodish hour before getting into another bus. Barely 20 minutes later, it comes to an all too familiar halt. In another life, this kind of nonsense would trigger severe heartburn but things have changed significantly. Probably for the better, I might add. All I did was smile wryly, shrug my shoulders and watch the rain because here was no way in hell I was making this meeting. I had some damn good reasons too.
I exited the bus at Chembur to take the SCLR into BKC only to be stopped in my tracks by the scornful looks of the auto chaps who revealed that traffic on said road was terrible and good luck to me. Fortunately, a black & yellow cab stopped and we were off. The driver, a grizzled veteran, was rather irate about his previous ride. The passenger had hoodwinked him into driving into one of the by-lanes of King's Circle in the rain, which as any old salt knows, is the easiest way to experience submarine life. In any case, we carefully navigated the flooded Sion circle road and were on the interestingly named Agra road (he did not know why it was called that) when the driver suddenly began reminiscing about Terrible Tuesday 2005.
"This road... it rained here so heavily that day, a double-decker bus was submerged. I was stuck near Sion when my daughter, who lives in Kurla, called me and said her house was flooded. Luckily, she and the kids escaped to the local school. The water here was so high, a few people got trapped on the road... almost drowned. But I'm a good swimmer... so, I rescued them and swam 3 km along this road. As I was swimming, I passed the private cars that were parked here... the people inside... dressed in suits, dressed in good clothes... all dead... drowned, unable to get out of their cars. That's why my car doesn't have power windows in the back. Did you notice? If water enters the car and gets into the system, it all shuts down. These people did not even break down the windows of their cars to try and escape... truly, it's amazing how educated people lose their heads in these times... it's only the uneducated who have the presence of mind to know what to do. After dropping the people off at a safe spot, I came back... me and others broke the windows of the cars and hauled the bodies onto the bonnets and roofs... the police showed up soon after... they praised me so much... but for what? I told them that it may have been time for these poor people to die, but their bodies did not deserve to rot in the cars... there was so much water that day."
The silence in the cab after he'd finished speaking was only interrupted by the rain drumming relentlessly on the roof. This innocuous-looking man had nonchalantly described one of the bravest and most dignified acts I have ever heard of... and I'd never have met him if it weren't for the bus breakdowns. Neither would you. Like I said earlier, maybe I'm wrong about the universe after all.
Song for the moment: Holographic Universe - Thievery Corporation
Comments
But there's too many people in that city claiming to have been heroes the exact same way. The number of times I have heard some version of this story, narrated just as innocuously makes me wonder if there was a whole army of these do-gooders swimming the filthy waters that day. Honestly, I think this is some kind of collective syndrome that makes people want to relive that day, but as a hero. Gun to my head, I'd say more than half those stories are BS. Mumbaikars have this thing about them where they valorize the strangest shit, especially with the rains, but not just the rains, and try and live out the "everyman hero" image. I personally know someone who will calmly tell you a similar 26/11 story with himself being thrust into the role of the unassuming hero but I know for a fact that it is a crock of bull. Btw, 26/11 is similar to 26/7 in the sense that you can easily run into 3 or 4 people in a single day who will claim to have personally helped some victim that night.
Btw, none of this is to say I begrudge these people any of their make-believe accounts. Everyone in that city is hanging on to whatever scraps they can grab. If the figment of a collective imagination helps folks get through their day, well, good for them!