26th July 2005, when mumbai stopped for everyone.

 26th July 2005, when mumbai stopped for everyone.

I was 6 years old on July 26, 2005 the day Mumbai came to a standstill.

The rains were relentless. Our school ran from 12–6 PM, but halfway through, they announced classes were canceled because of the flooding. My mom came to pick me up, and we started walking home because the water was too high for vehicles to move.

What I remember vividly:

• Water up to my chest.

• Buses, cars, and rickshaws stranded like abandoned toys.

• People walking in the middle of the street to avoid potholes.

• Gusty winds, loud thunder, and the eerie quiet between lightning cracks.

Then it happened.

I tripped over something and fell into an open gutter.

I was small, terrified and so close to being swept in. The only thing that saved me was that the gutter was overflowing, so I didn’t completely sink.

Before I could even process what was happening, two men rushed toward me.

• One picked me up and put me on his shoulders.

• The other held my mom’s hand and helped us wade through the chaos until we reached home safely.

They didn’t ask my name, where I was from, or what language I spoke. They just acted.

They spoke Marathi, and we’re Gujarati. And honestly, that didn’t matter for a second.

Moral of the story:

Today, when I see fights over language or culture preservation (which, yes, are valid concerns), I can’t help but think: beating people up isn’t the solution. That day, humanity came before identity. It was pure instinct, the spirit of being a Mumbaikar.

I’ll probably never meet those two strangers again, but if by some miracle you’re reading this, I hope you’re doing well. Thank you for saving 6-year-old me.