When ten minutes of very heavy rain brings Indian cities including Srinagar to their knees.
It is becoming an annual, almost scripted, drama in Indian cities: clouds gather, rain lashes for ten or fifteen minutes, and within minutes, water starts gurgling out of manholes, roads turn into streams, and low-lying neighbourhoods are inundated. Motorists wade through waist-deep water, shopkeepers stack sandbags, homes get flooded, and drainage covers are dislodged to release the choking water. Then the same tired phrases dominate the news cycle — “record rainfall,” “unexpected downpour,” “climate change.” The real truth? Our urban drainage systems are broken — and have been broken for decades. The question is no longer why this happens. We already know the why. The more pertinent question is: has India failed in drainage engineering, or is this yet another case of the entrenched “Chalta Hai, Hota Hai” attitude — a lethal cocktail of public apathy and government inertia — that prevents a permanent fix? Let us get the basics straight. Drainage engineering is not a rocket science technology. Cities across the world, including those with heavier monsoon rainfall than India, manage to function without streets turning into rivers every time it rains. Tokyo, Singapore, and even flood-prone Jakarta have invested heavily in stormwater drainage, pumping stations, and flood-management tunnels. In India, however, our so-called “stormwater drains” are often glorified open ditches, clogged with plastic waste, silt, construction debris, and sewage. Many of them are century-old colonial-era networks designed for populations and rainfall patterns of the early 1900s. Since then, our cities have grown exponentially in size and population, but the drainage network has barely expanded — and certainly not in proportion to urban sprawl. The engineering failure is two-fold. First, drainage capacity has not been upgraded to match today’s realities. Second, there is no serious maintenance regime.
A clogged drain, no matter how well designed, is a dead drain. This is not a matter of “lack of knowledge.” India produces world-class civil engineers. Our firms build complex infrastructure in the Gulf and Southeast Asia, where drainage systems work efficiently. The failure here is not technical — it is systemic neglect. Drainage engineering is also a victim of reckless urban planning — or more accurately, the absence of any real planning. Lakes, ponds, and wetlands that once acted as natural sponges for rainwater have been encroached upon or filled up for real estate projects. Flood plains have been converted into housing colonies. The result: water has nowhere to go except onto the streets and into people’s homes. Bengaluru’s annual “rain apocalypse” is a textbook case. Once known as the “city of lakes,” it had a natural network of interconnected water bodies that allowed excess rainwater to flow from one lake to another. Over the decades, builders filled in lake beds, and politicians sanctioned layouts on them. Now, a heavy downpour turns many upscale tech parks into islands. Mumbai, too, has lost vast stretches of its mangroves and wetlands to construction. The Mithi River — once a natural drain for rainwater — is now an open sewer, choked with garbage. Every year during the monsoon, the city is reminded that water will always reclaim its space. It would be convenient to say that all this is just a failure of engineering. It is not. It is also a failure of governance mindset. The “Chalta Hai” approach — loosely translating to “this is how things are” — is the hallmark of Indian urban management. The idea of preventing a crisis before it happens does not sit comfortably with our municipal bodies. Before the monsoon, civic agencies do conduct “desilting drives” for photo opportunities. A few truckloads of silt are removed from some drains, cameras click, and press releases announce “monsoon readiness.”
In reality, most drains are either partially cleaned or not touched at all. When the rains arrive and roads flood, the same agencies blame “unprecedented rainfall” or “natural calamity.” There is also the issue of political will. Fixing drainage is not glamorous. It does not produce ribbon-cutting opportunities, it does not generate instant votes, and it often requires tearing up roads — causing temporary inconvenience to residents who might punish the ruling party in the next election. So, the problem is kicked down the road, literally and figuratively. Drainage contracts are notorious havens for petty corruption. The same stretch of drain might be “cleaned” on paper multiple times a year, with payments released to contractors, but no actual work done. Substandard materials are used for culverts and pipelines, ensuring that they crack or collapse within a few seasons, leading to more “emergency repairs” — another revenue opportunity for the contractor-politician nexus.
“Every year on August 12, we celebrate International Youth Day to shine a light on the challenges faced by young people around the world. This day raises awareness about barriers to support between generations, especially ageism and other cultural and legal issues. These problems harm society, and we must take action to address them. The first International Youth Day took place on August 12, 2000, after the United Nations General Assembly adopted it in 1999. The main goal of this day is to bring global attention to the issues affecting youth”.
The Comptroller and Auditor General (CAG) has repeatedly flagged irregularities in drainage works in various states. But the reports gather dust, much like the drains they were meant to improve. Without strong accountability — not just for project completion, but for long-term performance — money will continue to flow into this black hole without visible results. Every time urban flooding makes headlines, officials are quick to blame climate change. True, rainfall patterns are becoming more erratic and intense due to global warming. But that is precisely why cities need robust drainage and flood-management systems. Using climate change as an excuse for inaction is like blaming a speeding car for an accident when the brakes were already faulty. Singapore gets far heavier rain than most Indian cities, but it invests in underground flood tunnels, automated pumping systems, and real-time water-level monitoring. Tokyo has a massive underground flood control facility — the Metropolitan Area Outer Underground Discharge Channel — capable of diverting river overflows during typhoons. These projects cost billions but save lives and property worth far more. If we know climate change is making intense rainfall more common, the correct response is to strengthen infrastructure, not shrug and hope the clouds will show mercy. The “ten-minutes-of-rain” flood is not just an inconvenience; it is an economic and public health disaster. Flooded streets mean stalled traffic, lost work hours, damaged goods, and ruined homes. Small businesses lose inventory. Poor households — often in low-lying slums — suffer the most, with contaminated water entering their homes, spreading diseases like leptospirosis, cholera, and dengue. Every year, insurance claims from flood-related damage run into hundreds of crores. The cost of repairing damaged roads, restoring power, and cleaning up the mess is enormous — often far higher than what preventive maintenance would have cost in the first place. Yet, the penny-wise, pound-foolish approach continues. So, what would a permanent fix look like? It would start with recognising drainage as a core urban infrastructure priority — as important as roads, electricity, and water supply. The vital fixes Are listed below.
1. Scientific master plans — mapping every drain, natural water channel, and flood plain, and ensuring new construction does not obstruct natural flow.
2. Capacity upgrades — designing drains to handle peak rainfall intensity expected in the next 50 years, not based on outdated colonial data.
3. Regular maintenance — year-round cleaning schedules, with independent audits to verify work.
4. Public accountability — publishing maintenance logs and budgets online for citizen scrutiny.
5. Nature-based solutions — restoring wetlands, rejuvenating lakes, and creating green buffers to absorb excess rainwater.
6. Technology integration — using sensors to detect blockages, real-time water-level monitoring, and GIS mapping for predictive flood modelling.
These measures require money, yes, but they require willpower even more. The cost of doing nothing is already being paid — in flooded homes, ruined roads, and lost lives. Ultimately, the question is whether Indian cities want to break free from the fatalistic “Chalta Hai” cycle. Citizens must stop accepting waterlogged roads as a fact of life. Media must hold municipal officials accountable not just during floods but through the dry months when preventive work is supposed to happen. Politicians must understand that infrastructure that works is far more rewarding in the long run than quick-fix optics. The technology exists, the funds are often allocated, and the engineering know-how is not in doubt. What is missing is the resolve to implement solutions and maintain them year after year. Because, in the end, ten minutes of rain should bring cool relief, not chaos. The fact that it is not a quirk of nature — it is a man-made failure. And until we admit that, the waters will keep rising, and the excuses will keep flowing, and it appears a shame—normalized.
(The author is a teacher and a researcher based in Gowhar Pora Chadoora of Central Kashmir’s Budgam district. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
Dr. Ashraf Zainabi
