A morning of incessant rains converted Delhi into one big waterlogged pothole.
The Delhi Metro came to the rescue of Dilliwallahs. The posh localities of South Delhi were waterlogged. Streams of muddy water were flowing easy on the Delhi roads bringing traffic to a grinding halt. I did something intelligent: parked my car at the nearest market. It took me nearly two hours to execute this plan.
Then, started another adventure: how to reach the nearest Metro station without getting wet? A kind gentleman gave me a ride on his bike that helped me negotiate mini-canals gushing on the colony roads without having to swim through. I jogged to the nearest Metro station in perpetual fear of drizzling converting into a downpour.
Inside Delhi Metro it was cool, convenient despite it being very crowded. Semi-wet people were shivering in AC coaches. They all had profound expression of disgust on their faces. I saw my reflection on a window glass. I thought semi-wet me looked sexy. A young girl standing next to me was narrating her share of adventure presumably to her boyfriend. She was ecstatic about the whole experience, I know not: why?
I reach ‘Central Secretariat’ and changed ‘here for the ‘yellowline.’ The CP's metro station was jampacked. The roof here, and in many of the Metros stations, is not waterproof. I somehow manage to reach office dry.
Now what is Delhi Chief Minister Sheila Dikshit going to say this time? Who will she blame? She never blames herself. I know what she will say. “Nothing is in my control” (they still label corruption charges on her), then she will add, “Delhi is run by multiplicity of agencies and there is no coordination between them.” And so on. We are tired of hearing the same excuses. At least find a new one, this time.
Delhi government has a contract with the Gods of Rain to unleash havoc on Delhi roads. The contract is extended every year.
Shantanu makes a pertinent point: The Delhi laughter at Mumbai rains – which prolongs over two months – is routine. There are endless television debates as to why the resilient Mumbaikars, who can handle bullets and bombs one day and spring to life the next, cannot handle rains. Now it’s the time for the people of Mumbai to laugh at Delhi. One spell of rain for two hours and working hours in the Indian Capital reduced to almost 40 percent. Why? No one wants to negotiate the rains.
I did negotiate rains. It was an adventure. We all did to reach wherever we had to. Only the Delhi roads gave in.