From cloud to ground, from drizzle to torrent, poets and artists have romanticized rain. I have seen the joyful and light faces of rain. I also witnessed the dark face of rain in 2014, when the low-lying areas of Kashmir were devastated by flood

My trip to Kashmir in September 2014 had come after two and a half decades. Needless to say, I was excited. A slight rain started as I reached Srinagar. The drive to The Khyber Resort and Spa, Gulmarg, was a rainy one. There was a familiarity in this state, as most of my summer holidays during my childhood had been spent here. I was happy to be back, post the many insurgencies and emergencies that the state had seen. However, it was no longer the rich region that I was nostalgic about.

That aside, the resort was luxurious and we stayed indoors all through the three days of our trip. Reports of water logging and devastation kept coming in, the television was abuzz with the non-stop rain that Kashmir was witnessing. But it didn’t seem like a reality until we began the drive down to Srinagar to catch our flight.

The hotel was sending a lot of staff back home, had cancelled all bookings and started to stock up the food and other supplies.

SEPTEMBER 7, 2014, one of those milestone days, when nature decides to speak without words, but the grim scene of the land speaks in untold ways.

The news channels were talking only about the flood, devastation and problems that Kashmir’s low-lying areas were facing. Sitting high up in the green mountains of Gulmarg, it had been a virtual reality.

Advised to take our flight before the conditions became worse, we began the drive down hours earlier as we didn’t want to get stuck anywhere. But we were unprepared for the devastation we saw as we came close to Bemina. The networks were down, so the mobiles had stopped working. My two companions and our young driver, Sabraz, were trying to remain calm.

We had put on songs earlier but as the Mahindra Scorpio reached near the pockets of devastation, the songs were switched off. In one area we saw people sitting and watching the water. The police told us, ‘Sailab aaya na yahan’, the flood has come. The human mind is so dense, it just doesn’t sink how deep the troubled waters are, until you hit the bottom.

Along the way, we saw people had taken shelter in a petrol pump, cows and all. We reached Bemina and got a shock. The police and the locals were guiding us to turn back to Gulmarg but I think the four of us were more inclined to reach the airport rather than turning back with our tails tucked in, so to speak. In retrospect, I think we were just plain lucky.

Sabraz actually said that the water was scaring him and my companions was trying to connect to our hotel, The Khyber, but all lines of our phones were down. And to top it, Sabraz’s Aircel phone didn’t have balance, so we couldn’t reah the hotel, though that network was working.

It was at Bemina and then through all the twists and turns within Srinagar, that we saw the real destruction. The water had seeped in thigh-high. People in the old town were wading through to find dry patches. Women were sitting on the steps with small children.

Only SUVs and buses were plying and that too with great difficulty. A lot of displaced people were riding over buses. Many were living in trucks. Women were holding hands, carrying small backpacks trying to get out of the water. We saw people making log rafts to sail into their homes and bring out some supplies and this distance was just a second’s walk in normal times. Paradise was flooded.

Luckily, the weather was clear. There was no more rain but who knew how long the supplies would last or how much time it would take for the waters to recede. There was an angry mob throwing muddy water on the cars. We did not see any relief camps.

Reaching the airport, through the backyards of Srinagar, winding roads and all, people laden on anything on wheels, it was nothing short of a miracle. We thanked God and man alike for this grace and blessing. It was a sombre security staff which ushered us through at the fastest speed possible. They, too, wanted to know the state of affairs in the city, as no news was going through due to lack of network. We sat at the airport, eating our sandwiches and drinking coffee very soberly.

Sabraz had another guest to pick up before he headed for the safety of the hills

Flight was delayed as search and rescue helicopters were flying in at priority. We landed safely in Delhi at 6 pm. And were home by 8 pm. Our families, having watched the scenes on television and unable to connect with us, treated us to a hot cuppa.

I have been to Kashmir since then, in 2018 and danced in the snow, experienced the resilience of these beautiful people. I also went in 2022 to Baramullah and enjoyed the rain within the safe confines of the Army headquarters. The Jhelum trinkling in the backdrop, as gunshots at infiltrators rang out early in the morning.

I have been caught in the rain in Greater Kailash I, Delhi, at midnight, on my way home from Gurugram to Noida, and the water just poured into my car. I drove with my feet in the water that rolled over the acclerator, brakes and clutch.

I have got caught in the rain in a waste management site in Varanasi, smelling the worst possible with garbage of the entire city and neighbouring villages lying all around. My clothes and shoes reeking of the horrible smell, forcing me to abandon them in the hotel room, as I had gone on a one-day work trip.

I have seen the parched land in my neighbourhood garden turn a vibrant green when the rain came. I have enjoyed listening to songs and podcasts as the drizzle continues day after day, filling the land with lifegiving water.

I enjoy listening to the sound of rain, the pitter-patter of drops. I love watching the colourful raincoats and umbrellas, the wet pigeons sitting on the ledges, the children rolling in the water. I miss the paper boats we sailed in the rainy puddles and the plastic shoes that went chapak. How beautiful is the rain!

The rain gods have been kind, showing me their many faces, and letting me live on this beautiful planet.

 This post was created for the Blogaberry Creative (Monthly) Challenge.