Yesterday, it rained heavily in Hyderabad. While rain brings joy after a prolonged period of scorching heat and summer, it also brings a problem: waterlogging and flooding in several areas. With unplanned development and little regard for proper drainage, many Indian cities are facing this issue.
The situation was particularly bad in the area where I live. Due to the sudden rain, the basement parking in my apartment was completely flooded. I had just left the office when I received a message from the building secretary asking residents not to park in the basement and to plan for other options.
I went to a restaurant and waited there for a couple of hours, hoping that the situation would improve. Then the secretary sent a picture of the basement, and it became clear that there was no way anyone would be able to park there for at least a day. I went back to the office, parked my vehicle there, and came home in a cab.
I had left the office at 6:15 PM, before the secretary's first message, and eventually reached home at 9:45 PM, only to find that the lift was not working. So I had to climb five flights of stairs, which, as one can imagine, was not an issue at all given my prime, pro-athlete-level fitness!
I was thinking...such a bad day!
Then my wife told me about the caretaker of the building. He handles various tasks in the building and also cleans by car everyday. He and his family live in a small room in the basement. He had shared some pictures of the damage caused by the water near his room. He told my wife that the TV and refrigerator had been damaged and that water had entered the room. I saw a picture in which he was standing in water near his room, and the water level was above his knees.
And I was thinking I had a bad day!
I did not know the full extent of the damage, and I will be honest, I did not think about it too much at the time. Maybe I was too tired, but looking back, I should have tried to find out more.
Today at the office, I saw more pictures and videos. This time they were of his room itself. The bed, refrigerator, TV, kitchen, wardrobe, clothes, the entire household had been severely impacted by the flooding. The family had tried to save what they could. The refrigerator was placed on the bed, and other household items were stacked above it. I also learned that the family had to move into a conference room on the ground floor and sleep there without beds or mattresses.
When I reached home, my wife told me something that happened today. My daughter reaches home from school before us. When she gets home, she usually calls my wife or sends a message to let her know she has arrived safely and if there is anything else we should know. Today, however, she wrote that she had seen the caretaker and that he was probably crying. She asked my wife if we could do something for him.
When I learned about this exchange between my wife and daughter, I must admit I felt happy and genuinely proud. I am proud that she has empathy. She feels the pain of others.
She may not feel bad for her mother when she causes agony by keeping a messy room, but I am glad that she feels the pain of others when their home and belongings are turned upside down. That is far more important.
We may be raising a slob, but at least she's a slob with a good heart!
(Update: We helped the caretaker with a small financial contribution, and we plan to speak with the building secretary about the possibility of residents pooling funds to support the family)
