The Truth about Maanjars & Kutras

Some trivia I read explains the expression ‘raining cats and dogs’.

In ye Englande of olde, simple folks used to pitch hay on to their rooftops, it was a good place to store it, as it also kept the house nice and warm. All domestic animals were shooed out in the evenings, and they climbed up on the slanted roofs and burrowed in the hay, to keep warm.

Well, if it rained, the hay would get wet and slippery, and the cats and dogs would come sliding down the roof and fall down! Hence the expression, ‘raining cats and dogs’.

Well, on a dark and foreboding evening in 1999, those maanjars (cats) and kutras (dogs) fell down in Mumbai.

I was a consultant for an ad agency in Mahim, and had just bought a new car. Unbeknowest to us, who were in the confines of a fully-enclosed and air-conditioned office, it had been raining like hell. I had a date that night, and had invited him over for some wine and pasta. Being pretty organized, I had kept stuff partially ready at home. But I needed to pick up some ingredients for the next day’s menu.

I stepped out of the office at 5.30 in the evening and was stunned. The whole of LJ Road, Mahim, was chock-a-block full of cars! Sometimes even a piddling shower disrupts traffic in Mumbai, so walking through what was then a light drizzle, I bought a coconut and a bunch of fresh coriander and got into my car.

Being a smart-ass, I decided to go home taking the back road, that is, Tulsi Pipe road, which runs along the railway tracks and meets up with the highway.

Worst mistake I made. There are no shops on the highway, no petrol pumps, no phone booths, no rest rooms, no facilities. It took me forever getting onto the Western Express Highway, and I found mayhem and pandemonium and delirium tremens. The entire stretch of road was submerged under water – a sight I have never seen in my life. I found myself traveling like 10 feet an hour.

I looked at my watch – it was 7 o’clock. One and a half hours that would normally have been done in under 10 minutes! It started getting very dark, and I started getting very alarmed.

As I proceeded at a snail’s pace, my eyes popped wider and wider. It looked like a war zone. Cars abandoned by the side of the road, and a huge exodus of people walking down the highway. Then it started raining like mad. I was scared, I was alone, I was incommunicado, and I wanted very badly to pee.

Hold on, I told myself, cursing men more than ever, them with the ability to stand and pee anywhere, even in public.

My watch said 8.30, I said, hold on. The pee-factor started getting more pronounced. I looked outside in the dark. No bushes to go behind. Another half hour went by. I got a brainwave – I will just wait for it to start raining again, get out of the car, and pee in my clothes, which will automatically get washed, I thought. Would you believe it, it did not rain.

There was a sudden knocking on my window. I rolled it down, and a panic-stricken man said, “Memsaab, my maalkin has fainted in the car. Do you have any water?” I didn’t, so I gave him the coconut and told him to break it and give her the coconut water. Several others came up to me and asked if they could use my cell-phone. I didn’t possess one, and cursed myself. I was in a panic not being able to talk to my date and tell him what was happening to me. Wild thoughts ran through my head. I will just squat in the middle of the road and pee. No one knew me anyway. No, I said, hold on.

By this time, my insides were being eaten up by hunger. I reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the coriander. I ate it, mud and all. I decided I would crouch down in the car and pee in the plastic bag. No, I told myself, hold on. It was now 10.30 and I was not even half-way home.

I really wanted to die – but not before I had my pee. By that time, I was so desperate, I thought I would just sit and pee in the seat. No, hold on, I told myself.

This went on and on. Do you know what time I finally managed to get off the highway and home? 3.30 in the morning. The watchman told me my friend had arrived and gone away. I somehow made it up to my front door. I unlocked it, and dragged myself in. I was in tremendous pain and I must admit, I didn’t make it in time to the bathroom. I had held on for 10 hours.

The next day, I found out that people who had taken the other arterial road to the suburbs, had a better time. They were also stranded, but Muslim families along that road, had been handing out cups of hot tea and snacks to people, and letting them use their toilets, irrespective of if the stranded people were Muslim or Hindu. This was one of the areas where, just a few months earlier, there had been rare Hindu-Muslim riots. And that evening had been the worst deluge ever in the city.

But that’s Mumbai. When there is a crisis situation, all become one. The most wonderful thing is that, after the trials and tribulations of the previous night, everyone was back at work the next morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, at 9.30 in the AM.