Chennai has gone through an
unforgettable ordeal because of extremely copious rainfall during the recent NorthEast
Monsoon (ironically called ‘the dry monsoon’). Excessive rains have caused
unprecedented inundation in many low-lying areas and water contamination
everywhere. Hydrophobia (in its literal sense of morbid fear of water) is the
newest fear stalking the city. Vegetable prices have hit the roof. One hopes
that the elevated prices are not the ‘new normal’. This unexpected crisis has
thrown up a lot of lessons.
John F Kennedy used to say that the
written word ‘crisis’ is represented by two characters in the Chinese language,
one for danger and the other for opportunity. Every crisis is an opportunity
for the discerning to bolster their life-sustaining skills. We can learn a lot
from the Chennai crisis also.
The tragedy that struck the patients in the
ICU of a well-known hospital was triggered by the damage caused to the
generator by rising waters from an adjoining river. A stand-by generator kept
at a higher elevation would have avoided this calamity. The Fukushima nuclear
disaster that happened in 2011 had a similar trigger when rising waves from the
sea resulted in sudden failure of multiple generators which were all
unfortunately located almost at the ground level only. A basic lesson in Risk
Management is the inescapable need for provision of back-up for critical services.
While acknowledging that the Chennai
catastrophe caused undue hardship to all and especially to the poorer sections
of the public, it is also possible to derive some cynical conclusions which of
course are not meant to underestimate the sufferings of the affected.
Many of us were deprived of
electricity for more than three days. Some say that the shutdown of electricity
was a conscious preventive measure to preempt the possibility of electrocution
in flooded areas. Others blame the impossibility of coping with this humongous
challenge. Newspapers were not either printed or distributed because of
logistical reasons. Mobiles conked out because of lack of charge. TVs and
personal computers could not be used. But still we survived! We learnt that we
can live without electricity, milk, newspapers, TV and net connectivity.
Surprisingly, we could even sleep
more peacefully partly because our diurnal rhythms were not disturbed by
watching TV and using computers during night time. Neurobiologists say that
nocturnal usage of computers and TV deprives us of sound sleep by disabling the
brain’s capacity to distinguish between daytime and nighttime. This lesson was
driven home by the crisis.
However, some landlines continued to
function. Frequent enquiries from friends and well-wishers disabused our minds
of the existential angst as to whether we matter at all. But there was
something strange happening in these enquiries. It was observed that friends
located in faraway places called more frequently than those in nearby areas. If
one may derive a behavioral law (to be known as ‘Distress Enquiry Law’) from
this phenomenon, we may hypothesise that “in times of crisis, the frequency of
enquiries increases exponentially with the distance of the caller’s location”.
A person calling a Mylapore house from Matunga, Mumbai can afford to keep asking, “Can I do anything
for you?” without fear of being taken seriously. However a person in Mambalam
will think twice before venturing to offer the same service for what if the
Mylaporean were to take his word seriously and reply, “Oh, thanks. My house is
flooded. I am coming to stay with you” ?
It was also quite a learning
experience to know that most of us are technical experts. People liberally
dished out reasons for power failure, non-availabilty of milk, bread and other
essentials and failure of the drainage system. Economic laws relating to demand
and supply, panic buying etc. were quoted with professorial authority by
everybody.
Once electricity was restored and TV
/ PC / Laptop/ Mobile became functional again, we regained our circadian rhythm
sleep disorders and became ready to be agitated by life’s minor inconveniences
like delayed supply of milk and non-delivery of a supplement in the newspaper
because of the delivery boy’s carelessness. In other words, we became our
normal selves.
Have we learnt anything from this
crisis? Of course, yes. But what is equally certain is that the next crisis
will be of a different variety for which we will not be adequately prepared. Only
now, the real meaning of expressions like “in deep WATERS” and “fishing in
troubled WATERS” (fleecing by omnibuses and autorickshaw drivers and black
marketing in items like milk and battery cells) has started SINKING in !
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