Fiona Fernandez points out how not a single traffic cop was on hand to help the hundreds stuck in Sion
It was going to be just another water world-like day when I stepped out at 11.30 am. Despite warnings from the autowallah who ferried me from Mulund to a waiting kaali-peeli on the Eastern Express Highway: “Madame, aage Ghatkopar mein bahut jaam hai,” yours truly decided to venture into a now-familiar routine when the heavens open.
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It was an uneventful ride till Ramabai Nagar and we were beginning to imagine that all was well. Barely had we climbed Sion flyover, did the nightmare begin. It was 1 pm and the scenes ahead resulted in that sinking feeling. We crawled, we stalled; cars around us had called it a day, high-heeled folk could be spotted dodging mini potholes to avert further tragedy. By 2 pm, we had moved 100 metres. Our phone battery was down to 20%.
More rain. Less progress. Not a single traffic cop on a bike, in a van or on foot, was in sight. By 3.45 pm, plagued by the constant rants of my crabby taxiwallah, we crossed the epicenter of this mayhem – Gandhi Market – only to realise that a 50m stretch of flooding had caused the massive logjam. We cruised through the muddy waist-high waters in five minutes. A traffic cop was spotted, finally. The next few kilometres were smooth, and we reached Parel in 15 minutes.
In hindsight, timely directions to divert traffic towards the Freeway or the Anik Depot route would have saved us, and thousands of others, at least two hours, if not more time. They are called traffic cops for a reason, right?
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