While any news of rain is greeted with apprehension now, back in the Madras of the 1980s and 1990s, the fear factor was muted.
| Photo Credit: B. JOTHI RAMALINGAM
Collective memories of the 2015 floods often mean that any news of imminent rain triggers a trauma-reflex. It was evident during the recent forecast of heavy rain while Chennai huddled down with cars being parked on the Velachery flyover and the odd report of panic buying trickling in.
Waiting for holiday
The rain had a robust start but fizzled out and citizens heaved a sigh of relief. Back in the Madras of the 1980s and 1990s, the rain had its destructive and dull phases, but the fear factor was muted. If you were a certain age, at school or college, the one thing that mattered was the expected announcement of educational institutions being shut as a precautionary measure. This was a contrast to what happened in neighbouring Kerala as June 1 was both the usual school reopening day and the date when the southwest monsoon entered the west coast.
A sudden holiday at school or college offers a joy that cannot be effectively described. It is like finding some money in a garment just before doing the laundry. The hostelites were happy waking up late and sauntering into their mess; the day scholars, meanwhile, thought about spending time with a neighbourhood pal or a cousin. Equally one eye on the television and one ear to the radio was the norm as the cyclone had to be tracked. What if the Weather Gods turned wicked?
Return of warm disposition
Mostly the climax would be this bit of news: “Kattrazhutha mandalam Andhira karayai kadanthadhu (the depression has crossed over the Andhra coast).” And Madras would revert to its warm disposition. Immediately, the routine of rented bicycles, suburban trains or Pallavan (MTC) buses would return as school and college beckoned, while office-goers replicated their daily grind.
For a city which dealt with water scarcity in those days, with most being used to hand-pumps that dispensed the precious liquid into parched buckets only at pre-dawn hours, the rain was indeed a blessing. But when cyclones defined the northeast monsoon’s essential character, often a prayer was mumbled under the Madras ceilings of yore with their wooden rafters heaving under rugged tiles, which could fly away anytime.
Sliver of hope
At times a cow would be electrocuted as stagnant water and live wires unleashed panic. In those damp, dark moments, when life took a grim turn, a piping hot tea and a butter biscuit from a corner shop offered a sliver of relief. This time too, the depression swung away towards the Andhra coast. It was time to ruminate over ‘Chennayil oru mazhaikalam’ (A rainy season in Chennai), also a title for a Gautham Vasudev Menon film that never got made.
Published – October 20, 2024 11:25 pm IST
