… is reeling under the onslaught of floods. The roads that I walked on, the places that I went to, the temples that I prayed in, the bridges that I rode on are all submerged under water. I sit here thousands of miles away helplessly scrolling through Twitter and WhatsApp waiting for friends and family to confirm that they are alive.

My parents, brother and 90 year old grandma are all holed up for the last two days in a second floor flat with no power. There’s chest deep water outside. Their basement with cars and electricity boxes are flooded. Their water supply is running out. Thankfully, my brother somehow finds coverage to ping the word ‘safe’ every few hours. This is what I received today –

‘One boat came with food and water . Got water .. Food already there’

I was this close to tears. But deep down I knew I shouldn’t be. They have a roof over their head. They aren’t scurrying for food packets like so many others. Most importantly, they are alive.

This morning, my MIL broke down on the phone. They have everything that they need. Roof. Food. Even, power. But she said, ‘Let me know if you know of any volunteers I can donate stuff to. I cannot see the way our people are suffering.’

It took a few hours to track down a school and college mate after her frantic pleas for help on Facebook. I am still assuming she is safe because we haven’t heard from her directly yet.

It’s been a couple of days since we heard from Tharani when she messaged she was safe and was running out of battery.

The last two days I have retweeted hundreds of messages from people not asking for food or water but asking to be rescued from their homes; women in labor asking for assistance; patients asking for oxygen cylinders. There were times when I wanted to outrage and cry but this was not the time to do all that; this was the time to help in whatever way we could.

Whoever is still reading this blog, please please help in whatever way you can. Me and my Chennai will be eternally grateful to you. Thank you.