What I learnt about Chennai as I braved Cyclone Vardah

Almost apologetically, Balaji, the driver of my cab uttered, “First time only sir”. His reference was to the near-head-on collision of inbound cyclone Vardah with the city of Chennai and the suffering witnessed thereof earlier this week.

He was also referring to the nearly 1 lakh trees uprooted, to the thousands of electricity poles destroyed, hundreds of thatched roofs gone and the 18 lives lost, in its wake.  

My cameraperson Shakeel Ahmed and I landed in the city on the evening of December 11. The weatherman had determined the afternoon of the next day as the time when the storm would attain its zenith.

The weatherman had also precisely tracked the evolving trajectory of Vardah which meant that instead of us having to chase the storm by travelling northwards, it would come to where we were - near Chennai. We booked a room and decided to ready up for the next morning.

Coverage of a storm makes for excitable news. A reporter, battling the simultaneous rain and wind, trying to tell the unfolding story to his viewer and, at times, risking his safety to bring the "action" of a storm to his watcher’s living room has but a few parallels.

I remain unsure if that is how it should be done. The debate on whether news television needs to reach the level of excitement of action shows or reality television is unsettled as yet.

The opportunity to witness the raw fury of nature and my ability to influence the response thereon is what draws me, as a raconteur, to volunteer for such assignments. It hardly endears me to the ones I love.

By the early hours of December 12, the signs were ominous. The outer end of the cyclonic system, with its diameter of about 700km, had arrived on our heads. Near the fishing port of Kasimedu at the northern end of the city, where we had positioned ourselves, wise fishermen had bunched up their vessels before neatly tethering them to the jetty.

It was instructive to see confused birds, flapping their wings hard and yet being unable to fly in the direction of their preference. The wind was giving them not an inch. Soon, the rains began.

With time passing, we went through the motions - the wind, moving at over 110kmph, would violently shake up vehicles, tear up roofs and bus shelters, uproot trees, fling heavy debris all over and bring to the ground heavier objects like water tanks and electricity poles. The accompanying rains would pound anything and everything standing in the way, even feebly so.

Amid all of this, standing atop a terrace facing the coast, were Shakeelbhai, my colleague Pramod Madhav and I along with Sukesh and Sonu, our broadcast technicians who worked much harder than we did for much lesser an exposure.

Our news producers loved us too much for what we were bringing to them. Thus they kept us "on air" in the "live" mode for so many hours that we lost count. We clutched to every bit of information so as to keep dishing out a refreshing fare for those tuning into our coverage.

I must say our task was growing harder by the minute as mobile phone towers packed up. Barely into the afternoon, there came a time where no one had any signal in our phones to make or receive calls.

The cyclone was not even halfway through! But for our satellite-linked broadcast, even we’d have shut shop at such an early juncture.

We carried on till 10.30pm battling hunger, fatigue and Cyclone Vardah.

The next day and the day after, the city woke up to electricity blackouts, roads in several neighbourhood blocked by felled trees and shortage of essential items and yes, cash. Yet, those who could, did leave their homes to open their shutters, report to work, drive buses and autorickshaws.

A special mention for the police, the National Disaster Response Force and sanitation department. But for their indefatigable drive, recovery would’ve been harder and longer.

A scarred administration ensured adequate and effective arrangements. A scarred population ensured they were prepared should the worst come.

However, to my mind, it was the urge among the people to normalise as early as possible that saw them through.

As we drove through lanes blocked by felled trees and mangled electricity wires, where the men, women and children were waiting, witnessing a relief effort which was underway, Balaji turned to me and asked if actress Aishwarya Rai was facing some domestic problems and whether she was doing okay.

Also read: I was marooned by Cyclone Vardah. My ten hours of helplessness