Over thirty-five years ago, on a dark and stormy Bombay night, I took what seemed an innocent right turn into the Andheri Subway. It turned out to be a swimming pool.

The rain was pouring down. Visibility was poor. Before I knew it, my faithful Fiat 118NE was floating where cars were supposed to drive. The water rose alarmingly fast until it was level with the windows.

My wife looked at me. I looked at her. The car looked at both of us and seemed to say, “You’re on your own.”

There was no rescue team. No disaster management force. No emergency hotline. Only one terrified husband. I told my wife to climb onto the steering wheel and somehow, with what I can only describe as temporary superhuman strength, I got out and pushed that car through the floodwaters.

Inches at a time. Painfully. Heroically. Foolishly. Eventually we reached dry land.

The car survived. My back did not.

Even today, when my back reminds me of its existence, I remember that flooded subway.

Yesterday, after just a twenty-minute shower, the same Andheri Subway was flooded again.

Thirty-five years.

Different governments. Different ministers. Different slogans.

Same water. Same flooding. Same citizens stranded.

This is what puzzles me.

Every day we hear magnificent announcements. Bullet trains. Mega projects. Skywalks.

Coastal roads. Flying roads. Underwater roads. Roads above roads. Roads below roads.

Soon perhaps roads that fly themselves.

Yet the ordinary problems remain exactly where they were. Examination papers leak. Bombay roads resemble ancient cobblestone pathways as you bump along. Potholes become landmarks.

Footpaths vanish.

Traffic cops are missing when needed and mysteriously present when fines can be collected.

Women still worry about safety. Fire safety appears only after a tragedy. Storm drains behave as though rain is an unexpected annual surprise.

And every monsoon, Mumbai acts shocked that water falls from the sky.

I am not against progress. Build the bullet train. Build airports. Build bridges. Build whatever you want.

But first make sure a citizen can drive through a city without needing a submarine.

Make sure children can take an exam without wondering whether somebody purchased the question paper the night before.

Make sure roads are smooth enough that a driver does not require chiropractic treatment after a short journey.

A nation is not judged only by the height of its bridges or the speed of its trains.

It is judged by whether ordinary problems get solved.

Yesterday, as I watched the flooded subway on television, my back began aching again.

Not because of old age. Not because of the rain. But because some problems in India seem to have remained in exactly the same place for twenty-five years, and unlike my old 118NE, nobody appears interested in pushing them out…!

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